Brave New World
by FaeScribe35
Summary: War is upon the Wizarding world. As relationships develop, the bonds of friendship strain and nightmares truly begin, it is Harry's path to stand strong and face the coming dark. AU after OotP. Slash HP/BZ, HG/RW
1. Chapter 1

Hi. This is my first Harry Potter fan-fic. I've enjoyed many of the great stories here on and thought I would attempt writing my own.

This is a slash fic and while the story does have some romance, I will be attempting to tell a story.

History: Will be AU after Order of the Phoenix

Pairings: Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini, Hermione/Ron, (Others TBA)

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. All rights belong to proper owners and no profit is made from this writing.

I hope you like.

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Brave New World

**Part I**

"_**A warning to the People, the Good and the Evil: This is War.**_

_**To the Solider, the Civilian, the Martyr, the Victim: This is War.**_

_**It's the moment of Truth & the moment to Lie. **_

_**And the moment to Live & the moment to Die.**_

_**The moment to Fight. The moment to Fight.**_

_**To fight. To fight. To fight!"**_

_**--- 30 Seconds To Mars, This is War**_

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**Chapter One**

"_And what do we have here? The pride of the lions in snake territory?"_

Harry James Potter, who had endured a pisser of summer and wasn't looking forward to the coming year at Hogwarts, merely closed his eyes at the slightly sarcastic remark. He was using these few minutes before the train pulled out of the station to make the transition from the Harry Potter who lived at 4 Privet Drive to Harry Potter, Boy who-who-lived, Gryffindor, youngest seeker in a century, protagonist in the on going battle of good verses evil with Voldemort, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

This year it was more difficult than most.

This year there were no summer visits with his best friends accompanied by great dinners by Mrs. Weasley, no quiet moments with his godfather Sirius. His summer was spent trapped in hell with relatives who both hated and feared him, alternately toiling under the summer sun with endless chores and sweltering in the dank heat of his bedroom locked away from normal people.

He may have been better prepared to handle his relatives had his entire world not shifted beneath his feet days before being shunted off to his private purgatory. After all, he had been the Dursley's dirty little secret much longer than he had been the so called savior of the Wizarding world. No, losing his godfather due to his own pride and stupidity and having the weight of a prophecy on his shoulders would be enough to fell a grown man.

Locking a sixteen year old young man away with people who despised him and begrudged the very air he breathed with no contact with his friends and no counseling for his grief, then expecting him to come away unscathed was asking the impossible.

Yet Harry Potter had endured. For that's what he had been all of his life. A survivor. And no prophecy, no madman and not even the death of his dream for a family with Sirius would break him.

For now though, he was tired and hungry and he wanted his quiet moment to collect his thoughts before he was expected to rise to the occasion again. Being questioned by an unknown quantity wasn't in his plans.

"As far as I know," he began calmly, opening his eyes to the painful view of students rushing on the platform with their families. Ignoring what would never be apart of his life. "The train to Hogwarts is for all students and there is no assigned seating."

Harry allowed his gaze to move to his intruder, a flicker of inquiry crinkling his brows as he struggled to place the handsome face.

A Slytherin, no doubt, the comment proof enough of that. From a wealthy family, for though his own wardrobe stated otherwise, Harry recognized the crisp lines of tailored black wool trousers, a well structured jacket and the dark green turtleneck beneath it.

Zabini, the name emerged from the depths of an eleven year old memory of a first year's sorting. _Zabini, Blaise. Slytherin._ He was taller than Harry certainly. Though Harry had finally had a bit of a growth spurt this summer, he was no where near Zabini's 6 feet. Skin the color of Honeyduke's finest chocolate was well complimented by short cut black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee framing a full mouth. Dark brown eyes held a sharp and assessing intelligence that warned Harry not to underestimate this Slytherin.

"True."

This one word was spoken with a depth of power and unspoken demand of respect people like Draco Malfoy could only ever aspire to and never quite achieve.

"However, I think we're both aware of the unspoken rules we as passengers of the Hogwarts Express have placed on the seating compartments. So therefore it is unusual to find Harry Potter without the other two thirds of the famous Gryffindor trio here in a compartment normally reserved for myself and my companions."

"I'm guessing there was a question in there somewhere?"

Harry managed to contain his surprise when a small smile curved Zabini's mouth. Even more for the fact that it reached the depths of his rather intense gaze. "You are much more than I thought, Harry Potter," amusement was clear in the other boy's voice.

"Thank you. I think." Harry figured the enigmatic words were a compliment and decided to treat them as such.

"May I join you?"

"Sure," he agreed with a small lift of his shoulder.

Zabini floated in an antique black leather trunk that gleamed with a high glossy sheen. A quick flick of his wand and it was settled into the overheard compartment without much trouble. Zabini hung the black cloak draped across his arm on a hook, then rested on the seat across from him. That's when Harry noticed the pet carrier similar to the one Hermione used for Crookshanks. Zabini had only just finished when the train began its departure from the station.

"Do you mind if I allow my familiar her freedom?"

It was a strange way of asking but Harry put it down to another Slytherin quirk. Snape was like that, using a lot of words in a round about way when it was much easier to ask a simple direct question.

"No." His curiosity was satisfied when a slinky black cat emerged and settled on the seat quite away from Zabini.

"Come, Nefertiti. Must we endure this every year. I know you hate the carrier but that's no reason to punish me."

The feline actually seemed to sneer just before its head turned in the opposite direction. Harry covered his mouth before the laughter emerged. "Sorry." But it hardly sounded sincere when he was snickering. The cat sensing an ally leapt across the seat and curled next to his thigh.

"She doesn't like her carrier."

"Obviously," Harry smiled feeling the unacknowledged tension in the air warm. It was difficult to be nervous around a boy who had the same issues with his cat that Harry often had with his owl. "What did you say her name was again?"

"Nefertiti. It means 'the beautiful one who has come'. She was a gift from my mother while we were vacationing the summer I was eleven. She's an Egyptian Mau, specially bred for her solid black coat and her golden eyes. I thought the name fitting."

"She's beautiful." The elegant cat was the perfect match for the Slytherin. Sleek. Intelligent. Just a touch mystery. She certainly was nothing like Hermione's half-kneazle familiar.

"And she knows this, which is why we always have difficulties when it comes to situations like this. As her human, I should know better than expect her to travel in such a mundane manner."

A sharp meow was Zabini's answer, then the cat surprised Harry, butting against his hand. He scratched behind her ear, earning a rumbling purr of approval. Pleased, the cat climbed into his lap, arching into his massaging fingers.

This time the silence was much more companionable, Nefertiti's purring the only mar. Zabini removed a leather bound book from the pocket of his cloak, opening it and seeming to read. Harry took a chance to observe to Slytherin, probably not as furtive as he hoped. He didn't know much about Zabini, there weren't many rumors spread around Hogwarts about him. Other than sharing a few classes and seeing him at meal times, or in the stands during Gryffindor/Slytherin quidditch matches, he could probably count on his hands the number of times he actually saw the boy around school.

"They were busy." Harry broke the moment, going back to Zabini's original question. Perhaps if they started talking about small things, he might learn something about him. It just didn't seem right to Harry that they had both attended Hogwarts for six years and he knew next to nothing about Blaise Zabini. Not when a few moments here on the train had proved getting to know him might be worthwhile.

A dark brow lifted in query and Harry quickly explained. "Ron and Hermione. When I went to our usual compartment, they were," he paused, biting on his lower lip, not wanting to spread their private business about. "Busy." He finally decided upon. "I could tell they wanted to be alone."

Alone to finish snogging each other senseless.

Harry wasn't angry Ron and Hermione hadn't bothered to tell him they were together. Couldn't be angry due to the restrictions Dumbledore had placed upon his contact with the Wizarding world. Regardless, he was happy they had finally come together. He might be dense about relationships but his two friends had been glancing sideways at each other long enough that even _he _recognized the attraction for what it was.

"So Granger and Weasley are finally together."

Well that proved a lot more people than he thought had figured out how things stood between Hermione and Ron. "Yes."

_"Blaise, I heard the strangest rumblings down in lion territory. It seems the 'Chosen One' is missing."_

The husky drawl came from the girl who had yanked open the door to their compartment. He may not have spoken a word to her, but he recognized the petite beauty of Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin easily. When the guys in his dorm sat around at night talking, especially about girls, she was considered number one on the list of untouchable but extremely hot girls who attended Hogwarts. She was proving warranting of that title today in a black velvet sweater with smoke gray mink lining the collar and a matching black skirt long enough to cover her feet. The ensemble made her already dainty features even more fae, though her face was austere, her manner haughty and those cerulean eyes cold.

A dainty hand reached to slowly, deliberately, flick a loose tendril of hair away from her face. The rest of the honey blonde hair was pulled into a complicated twist on the top of her head.

"We have company, I see."

"Well, this is certainly interesting."

Joining her was the other girl who tied the list with Greengrass, Tracey Davis, also of Slytherin, almost her complete opposite in everyway. Where Daphne was flowerlike, Tracey was tall, like the runway models he occasionally glimpsed on the magazines his Aunt Petunia liked to pretend she paid no attention to. Davis was dressed in a hound's-tooth print traveling suit, with trousers and heeled boots that only enhanced long lithe legs. Her hair was raven black and shorn into short featherlike curls around a patrician oval shaped face with dark insolent eyes lit with mischief that didn't necessarily fall in his favor.

Davis looped her arm into Greengrass's hinting at a close friendship. It was a telling gesture he knew was made deliberately, either to lull him into a false sense of comfort or to reveal the depths of their friendship. Either way, as Davis closed the compartment door behind them, he knew the inquisition was truly about to begin.

Both girls settled their things away and sat on the seat next to Zabini, making the collar of his shirt feel as though it was tightening, which was ridiculous considering Dudley's castoffs were at least three sizes too big.

"So Potter," Greengrass leaned forward, linking her fingers together neatly on her lap, "What are you doing here?"

He took a moment, purposely, before he answered. After a deep breath, watched the closed expressions on each Slytherin's face. He wondered if they played these types of games all the time. If so, Harry had to wonder about their sanity. This was exhausting.

"So Slytherin's _are_ capable of being straightforward? I had wondered if your _every_ action was aimed toward cunning, manipulation and ambition." The words were said with clear humor so no offense could be taken.

Davis surprised him by bursting into laughter. It was a genuine and free sound. One he never would have suspected her capable of. "Oh, I like him Daph. Can we keep him?"

"Unfortunately no. The rest of his pride will come searching for their leader soon enough," Blaise answered. "But he has been quite entertaining so far."

"Glad I could be of service."

"Now that was positively acerbic. Careful Potter, you can't have the masses thinking the 'Chosen One' has a hidden Slytherin streak, what would they do?"

"What's with this Chosen One rubbish you keep repeating?"

"Haven't you read the Daily Prophet? You've been a front page staple most of the summer. The Chosen One, the destined Savior of the Wizarding world."

"I've been a little cut off this summer," he sneered through gritted teeth. It seemed now that the truth of Voldemort's return was out, the public had returned him to his pedestal. He had to wonder though, how so many people who considered him an attention seeking liar, could turn around and expect him to be their liberator. If the masses were such sheep, it was no wonder Voldemort could sweep through the Wizarding world unchecked. "And I don't read my own press."

Daphne inspected him carefully, making him feel as though he were under a microscope. "So you're not buying into the whole Chosen One phenomenon. It must be nice having so many people practically worshiping you, Potter. Most people would take advantage of that."

"Most people don't have an insanely powerful madman trying to kill them either but if you'd like to trade places, I'm sure Rita Skeeter would be happy to make you a front page story. And you can be the _Chosen One_," he spit the last out as though it left a foul taste in his mouth. Which it had.

It couldn't have escaped their notice that he neither confirmed nor denied the savior rumor. The insult also went without comment. If they were loyal Death Eaters, they hid it better than Malfoy who was continually spouting his devotion to his so called Dark Lord.

"Daphne Greengrass, the Girl-Who-Lived," Tracey paused then shook her head, "Just doesn't ring true. You'll have to keep the title unfortunately, Potter." She smiled then, a soft generous one that said he had passed part one of their questioning. She began to dig into a black saddlebag and pulled free a dark green book and a quill and began writing.

"I swear, the first years look positively infantile this year. The Prefects will have their hands full. The Owlery will be packed with firsties suffering from homesickness."

"They will manage and by Samhain will wonder why they made such a fuss. What should be interesting as always, will be this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Well I can only hope we aren't subjected to another year of – _Hem, Hem_," Daphne imitated perfectly. "The stupidity of the Ministry will never cease to amaze me. Second year we're subjected to Dementors and then that odious woman last year."

"And don't even get me started on those idiotic educational decrees," Tracey glanced at Harry, "Why are you looking at us like that?"

"I thought the Slytherin's rather liked Umbridge, what with her Inquisitorial Squad and all."

"Umbridge wasn't as charitable to all the Slytherins as you might believe. Only those families whose influence within the ministry is well known and beneficial to Minister Fudge had her favor," Tracey explained.

She didn't have to say Malfoy and his cronies for Harry to know exactly which Slytherins received preferential treatment by Umbridge. Strange, he didn't know why he thought all of the Slytherin's fell in line with Malfoy. As a matter of fact, he really didn't know when he started equating Slytherin's with Death Eaters.

It was understandable when he was younger and new to the Wizarding world. Those generalizations were made by a boy who could only see the facts that were pointed out to him. There was no excuse for that behavior now. He wasn't the eleven year old Hagrid rescued from the cupboard under the stairs. He knew enough and had experienced enough to understand that being a Slytherin wasn't the sole factor of being a dark wizard. Especially with that treacherous bastard Pettigrew as a prime example.

Of course he would be cautious around these three but he shouldn't automatically assume things about Zabini, Greengrass and Davis either. They had yet to give him reason to believe they were out to deliver him to Voldemort. It was best to reserve judgment.

If he wanted to be treated as an adult, it was time for him to start behaving as one as well.

"I'm sorry." He frowned, looking down at the cat still curled in his lap that had fallen asleep under his ministrations.

"Whatever for," Daphne began sharply, "It's not like we're not used-"

"Daph," Blaise cut her off, giving a mild shake of his head before meeting Harry's gaze again.

"She's right though," Harry relented, his stomach clenched with a soft guilt he knew was well deserved. "I've made those types of assumptions before. Made sweeping generalizations about Slytherins without getting to know any of you. I hate when people presume things about me based on rumors or things they've read in the Daily Prophet or in some book. Turns out I'm just as bad when it comes to the people of your house."

"Guess that means you're human just like the rest of us," Daphne smiled for the first time and it made an already pretty face stunning with its intensity. "After all, I never would have expected Harry Potter, prime example of everything Gryffindor, would deign a trio of Slytherins with the time of day."

He couldn't help but grimace at that. Did he truly come off so self-righteous? His reputation in the snake house wouldn't be the best, especially with so many of them children of Death Eaters who wanted him dead, but how many of the other students of Hogwarts felt the same.

"Now you have him worried," Tracey nudged her seatmate lightly.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"No but your face speaks very clearly, Potter," Tracey explained.

"Where have I heard that before."

"It's not a bad quality," Zabini reassured him. "We can't all be cunning and ambitious. The Wizarding world needs people like you Harry. Needs people like us all."

"It certainly makes life more interesting," Davis grinned.

"Now that we've decided we're all wonderful. A specific question was asked and my curiosity has been piqued. While it has been interesting dispelling a few of the more prominent rumors about you, Potter, but I have to wonder why you're not with your Gryffindors this trip?" Greengrass definitely wasn't letting his presence there in so called Slytherin territory be glossed over.

"Harry," he began, "I think if we're dispelling untruths, we can use first names."

"Harry, then." Tracey agreed. "I'm Tracey, this is Daphne and of course you've already met Blaise."

There was a definite hierarchy with these three. Hopefully the dynamics would become clearer with time because Harry found himself quite interested.

"I was just telling Blaise," he paused and looked at the boy in question who merely inclined his head. "Ron and Hermione were a bit occupied, so I decided to give them some privacy."

"So Granger and Weasley are finally together." Daphne sighed heavily. "Damn, and here I thought they would wait until seventh year before getting a clue. How many galleons was that Zabini?"

"One hundred. Don't worry; I can wait until Hogsmeade weekend to collect."

"You wagered on when my best friends would get together?" Incredulity filled Harry's voice. Not only that but one hundred galleons were nothing to sneeze at.

"They will lay bets on everything, from who receives the first detention from Professor Snape-"

"You've made me quite a bit of currency on that one, Harry. I should probably thank you," Daphne interrupted with a grin.

"To who wins the Quidditch cup at the end of the year," Tracey finished as though Daphne hadn't interrupted.

"When you were banned last season, Harry I was worried," Blaise leaned back and fit his fingers together, "However, the Gryffindors managed to win the cup after all. I enjoyed my brief visit to Tuscany this past week and I must thank you Daphne. Your parents' villa is quite beautiful."

"But why?" His confusion was obvious.

"Its fun," Daphne gestured with a slender hand. She fished into her own black saddle bag and retrieved a velvet black pouch. She let it drop into Blaise's lap, before chuckling indulgently.

"It's simple harmless fun. And it certainly breaks the monotony of the school year, Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the people or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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**Chapter Two**

"Harry!"

The Gryffindor in question was standing in front of the carriages that took the students to the castle from the train. He waited for the person who had shouted his name to catch up. Riding with the three Slytherin while interesting was mentally exhausting. It was also strangely enough, the most fun he'd had in weeks. After a quick farewell, he had left the train to find his friends. Now he was a bit out of sorts and seeing the thestrals had brought on a vivid flashback.

_The Veil and the echoes of voices. Sirius. Bellatrix's laughter. Falling. Falling_.

The still grieving part of him wanted to lash out but the quiet death horse nudged against his hand and the livid fury gradually faded away. It wasn't this animal's fault he lost his godfather. Truly the only ones culpable were Bellatrix for firing the curse at Sirius and Voldemort for conspiring to get him to the Department of Mysteries in the first place.

Everyone played their roles in Voldemort's little drama. He, the angry frustrated hero racing to save his loved one from certain death and of course Dumbledore, the gentle all knowing mentor doing his best to protect the headstrong hero. With each of them, making a royal mess of things.

Still his fury remained and though he had a better grasp on it, always it bubbled beneath the surface waiting to be unleashed. Preferably on the scaly bastard who continued to strip his life of any measure of happiness he tried to grasp.

Harry had learned a great deal last year and not merely about the prophecy that bound him. He learned that everyone was fallible. Sirius, the man who wanted to be a loving godfather but who had fallen through the veil because his mind was ravaged by the horrors of Azkaban and trapped in between the past and the present. Snape, a noted potions master and professor, who held on to childhood grudges and hatred like they were old friends and companions. Dumbledore who probably hadn't heard the phrase about the road to hell being paved with good intentions, good intentions that had made his life horrible whether the man realized it or not.

They all made mistakes. None were perfect and the best way for him to come out of this war alive would be to open his eyes to this fact and stop waiting for someone to lead him. Save him. Because there was no rescuer, they were all too busy waiting for him to be their savior. In the end, it would be him and Voldemort and if he wanted to remain the survivor he had been all of his life, he had to find a better way of doing so than he had for the past 5 years.

Arms flew around his neck with a slender body slamming forcefully against him, dragging Harry from his somewhat morbid thoughts. He knew before he had a mouthful of brown slightly frizzy curls it was the first of his best friends.

"Harry! We've been looking all over for you. Where have you been? Are you alright? Why didn't you sit with the rest of us?"

They really couldn't have looked all that hard, was his first dark thought then he shoved it aside. Hermione meant well, and she was he his best friend. The summer had been quite favorable to her, if the soft tan and the gleam of happiness in her eyes were any indication. "'Mione, calm down. I was on the train obviously or I wouldn't be standing here. I'm fine."

"That still doesn't answer the other question you know," her stern faced expression brooking no argument.

"Well, when I first got on the train, I actually did go searching for you and Ron but I figured since you both were doing a great job snogging each other senseless, I'd give you a bit of privacy."

"Harry!" she looked positively outraged and it brought on a much needed laugh. "Well, I, we didn't-"

"That good, yeah?" he interrupted with a smirk worthy of Malfoy.

"Stop it." She slapped his arm. "No need to tease."

"Ouch, that hurt." He grabbed the spot that really did sting a bit but not as much as he pretended. "Is that how you finally got Ron's attention by beating him into submission?"

She tried to look affronted but the short snort of laughter spoiled the affect. "He can be rather thick at times, can't he?" This time her smile was a slightly forced and tinged with guilt. "Harry, I'm sorry you had to find out that way. We wanted to write but Professor Dumbledore insisted."

"Dumbledore's Restrictions. I've not received a spot of mail all summer. Not to mention being forced to stay at the relatives for the entire time. So you couldn't write to tell me about you and Ron. I'm not angry." At her pointed glare he shrugged. "Okay, I was angry, still am a bit, but I understood why you didn't write."

"It just unfair, you being stuck there and unable to-"

"It doesn't matter though does it? It's unfair. It's always unfair. But at least it's over now. Best thing to do is to get over and move on."

"But Harry, it had to be difficult this summer, especially with Sirius."

"I dealt with it. Only thing I could do wasn't it?" This time bitterness spilled over into his voice and she seemed to get the message. At least for the time being. If he knew Hermione, she would probably make it a personal crusade to make sure he dealt with his issues with Sirius' death and talked himself blue in the face.

Great his personal life had just become equal with freeing house elves.

Hopefully she would be too busy with school and Ron to poke to hard at things he'd prefer left alone.

"Harry! Mate, where have you been?"

Ron was finally pulling up the rear of the students with Ginny, Neville and Luna beside him. He wondered if they had another rehash of events from the Department of Mysteries. He was definitely glad to have missed that. "Hey guys. It's good to see you."

"So where were you?" The look on Ginny's face was a mixture of concern and pity and was mirrored on all of their faces. He only hoped he wouldn't have to deal with those expressions for the entire year.

"Found myself in Snake territory actually."

He mimicked his previous companions' words unconsciously. A small smirk touched his mouth as the expected reactions came forth. Ron with his 'Slimy Slytherins rant, Hermione berating Ron. Ginny looked like she was ready to explode while Neville struggled between wanting to play peacemaker and staying out of Ginny's range of implosion. Luna was looking her normal spacey self, though a smile lingered on her lips telling him she wasn't quite as tuned out as she pretended to be.

"Why would you sit with those Death Eaters, Harry and not with your best mates?"

"I actually wasn't paying much attention to where I was until the door opened and Zabini posed the exact same question. Though without the Death Eater part. I could have just as easily ended up with the Hufflepuffs now couldn't I?"

"But when you did, why not just leave?" Ginny looked almost as frustrated as Ron.

"Why is it such a big deal?" Sure they were Slytherins and the two houses had a pretty big rivalry going. Then there were the Death Eater parents…okay, so perhaps Ron and Ginny had a reason to react so badly. "Look, I'm here, I'm in one piece. It was no harm done."

"No harm done? They could have-"

"What Ron? Could have kidnapped me from the moving train and taken me to Voldemort? Now the Slytherins are all carrying around portkeys on the off chance of performing their sacred duty to their Dark Lord?"

"I wouldn't it past them." The redhead grumbled refusing to let the issue go.

"Look, I sat with Zabini, Greengrass and Davis." Though each had given permission to use their first names, the last thing he wanted to exacerbate things by doing so in front of Ron. "They were okay. No pureblood rhetoric, no insults and no 'The Dark Lord will make you suffer' nonsense. They were nothing like Malfoy and his brainless goons. So just let it go."

"But Harry-"

"I can't fight everyone in the Wizarding world Ron!" he shouted angrily, fed up with the protests. Being protective was one thing, running the issue into the ground was another thing entirely. "I was careful and vigilant and that's all I can ever be."

"They could be trying to lull you into a false sense of security, pretending to be friendly, before betraying you." Ginny added which only seemed to encourage Ron even more.

"And Voldemort could be hiding in the Chamber of Secrets waiting for me to go to bed tonight before he comes to kill me."

"That's not funny Harry," Ginny murmured uncomfortably.

"Shouldn't joke like that mate," Ron mumbled and folded his hands across his chest.

Well sometimes you had to be cruel to make a point. "We rode the train to school. That's all. There is no nefarious plot. Now can we please get in the carriage before we're late for the opening feast?" It wasn't a suggestion and it was the final word he would say on the subject. Being cross examined about his traveling companions was no longer on the program for the evening.

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**FSFSFS**

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The first time he heard his mother, Zora, referred to as a _'black widow',_ he was seven years old. At the time, he didn't understand what the group of women meant but he could read body language. The four women had gathered beneath his favorite climbing tree to gossip, as was the custom at his grandparents' garden parties. He watched the way each leaned in closer, like most did when telling a secret, then a fan would flip open covering the speakers face as she relayed information. A moment later, the tittering laughter, with its tone so cold and vicious, and he knew _'black widow'_ was something callous and malicious.

By the time Blaise Zabini was ten, he understood quite well what those hateful women were whispering about.

Yet he knew better. Those women couldn't comprehend the resilience of Zora Zabini.

They didn't know that at seventeen she had been best friends with Penelope Taunton, who one day would become Penelope Parkinson. Nor did they know Damien Parkinson had wanted to marry Zora, had even approached her parents to begin negotiations. Zora knew her best friend had her heart set on obtaining a betrothal contract with the Parkinson family. Penelope's crush on Damien was famous in the Slytherin girls' dorms and no one dared go against the venomous girl's wishes.

It was a friendship that would come to a bitter end. After witnessing a brief moment between Zora and Damien, Penelope had run off enraged. What Penelope hadn't known, was Zora had been gently pushing Damien toward Penelope's attentions. The man had agreed to halt his pursuit of Zora and give Penelope a chance but Zora knew he didn't truly believe anything would come of a relationship with the woman. Headstrong and accustomed to getting his way, Damien was merely biding his time until Zora came along to his way of thinking. As far as Zora was concerned however, the matter was settled and her best friend would get her dream.

In the manner of all scorned women with a small amount of power and knowledge, Penelope rushed home to her father's library with revenge on her mind. In a fit of spiteful rage, she cast a spell, the darkest of curses, upon her once best friend. Whomever Zora dared to love would be fated to die the most painful death.

Little did Penelope know, this curse would be unbreakable and after discovering Zora's true intentions would try to apologize and reverse it. Unfortunately Zora was destined to have this curse follow her until the day she died. It was simply Zora's misfortune the men she married were kind and she could not help but eventually love them no matter how hard she tried otherwise.

Blaise had once asked his mother, if she knew what would happen to her husbands, why she continued to doom these men. In the beginning, most were marriages her parents had arranged, others needed the fortune her disastrous relationships had garnered. His mother could only reply that she hoped he never knew the depths of loneliness and pain Penelope had cursed her to endure.

This foundation was the core of his reluctance to form relationships with his peers. His first year at Hogwarts was by far the worst. He stood in the shadows watching the other first years forming bonds he never wanted. Malfoy and his goons were the center faction, children of inner circle Death Eater parents who were destined and eager to become Death Eaters themselves, though they had no idea what that life choice would entail. Nott and his group, also children of Death Eaters, were the underlings of Malfoy because their parents didn't carry the influence of the Malfoy name. Everyone else was usually from neutral families, like the Zabinis, and were left to stay out of the way as best they could. Or remain in the shadows the way he did.

It wasn't until third year when all of that changed for him. He hadn't expected Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass to extend a hand of friendship in his direction but three years later he was contented they had. The two girls had insinuated themselves into his life so utterly he finally understood what it must be like to have siblings.

They became his best friends and considered him the same. They studied together and laughed together. They were his confidants, and he held their secrets as well. When he had discovered that perhaps he was attracted to both men and women, both were completely supportive and vowed to remain by his side no matter what relationship he chose to have. They were also the first to volunteer to help with the issue of an heir should the problem arise.

Most important, they did magic together. As their friendship grew, so did the resonance of their magic. It was Daphne who suggested they celebrate the Sabbats together. Tracey assembled their Grimoire.

He was the one who suggested they form their own Coven.

Tracey was in charge of recruitment. She was considered the friendly half-blood Slytherin the other houses could relate to. A powerful witch in her own right, Tracey's gift was her ability to sense magic. She knew if a witch or wizard's power would complement their own.

Daphne was charged with the initial questions to discover if the initiate was compatible in other ways. Blood purity wasn't important but they found muggle-borns almost violently opposed to the old ways. Dark magic, they were fond of proclaiming. It was difficult for them to overcome years of being unconsciously programmed to think performing a ritual skyclad under a full moon had nothing to do with Dark magic.

Despite this, four others had joined their small circle and no one at Hogwarts was any the wiser. Even with the interference of the Ministry the year before, their coven had come together and performed magic and celebrated the Sabbats with Umbridge none the wiser. Potter's little group was greatly appreciated to have taken the pressure of discovery off them. Then, Umbridge had been directly targeting Potter, so she wouldn't have noticed their Coven anyway.

Potter, Blaise mused silently. _Harry, _as he and the girls had been invited to call him. The Gryffindor was an enigma. Harry's power was unmistakable. It was almost like a living entity that wrapped protectively around the teen and warned others off who dared threaten aggression in his direction. Blaise had to wonder how Malfoy tolerated his little yearly jaunts to the Gryffindor compartments each year with Harry's magic warning off threats so strongly. It was a testament to Malfoy's stupidity, not power, for Blaise knew exactly what Malfoy's magic was capable of and it was no where near the levels Harry's reached.

There were moments in their discussion when some of Harry's responses had been downright Slytherin in character. Definitely a surprise for one so firmly entrenched in the lion house. Blaise thought he was mistaken when Tracey had signaled a recruitment query for Harry by passing him the 1st years guide, for there was no way Harry would even consider it. When Daphne agreed, he had been even more stunned.

"You're both mad," he shook his head resolutely as their thestral drawn carriage made it's way toward the castle. "There is no way Harry Potter would be interested in our Coven, or the old ways. There is no way anyone from the Light side would allow him to even congregate with us on a long-term basis. Dumbledore is fond of pretending to be inclusive of our house but in ways he's even more bigoted than the students."

"You're probably right," Tracey shrugged off his concerns so lightly he had to wonder if she knew something he didn't. "Then again, if the rumors I heard this summer are correct, Harry Potter has been through life altering experiences."

"You've been gossiping?" Daphne looked just as shocked as he. Tracey abhorred gossip in all forms. To hear she actually was performing the act?

"Of course not," she sneered. "You know what my idiotic parents have been up to this summer."

The Davis family might be neutral but most people would find when the Dark Lord made commands and threatened family members, they would be hard pressed not to give in. As the Davis family made their fortune in the gathering and distribution of rare potions ingredients, and the articles about the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries within the Ministry, it wasn't a leap to wonder when the Dark Lord would be sending representatives to her family.

"So what did you overhear," he asked, knowing Tracey had no qualms about eavesdropping on her parents for information.

"Sirius Black is dead."

Blaise felt a wave of sympathy swell for the Gryffindor. Malfoy had mouthed off in the common room the beginning of fifth year about Black not being a Death Eater and how the Ministry were idiots for thinking it, or so his father had claimed. Sometimes you had to take what Malfoy said at face value and decide for yourself if there was any truth to it. But if Malfoy knew, it was guaranteed that Harry knew that not only was Black innocent but that he was his godfather as well. And now Black was dead.

"Do you know how?" He murmured.

"No. I was surprised I heard that much. I know my father was charged with obtaining some pretty rare potions ingredients because he packed and left the house the very same day taking three of our house elves with him. And he hasn't returned yet."

"That would certainly explain why Harry looked like death warmed over." Daphne wrapped an arm around Tracey's shoulder offering silent support as she knew her best friend was worried but would never admit it.

"Not really. From what I've observed, he looks like that every fall he returns to school."

"And just how often have you been looking, Lord Zabini," Tracey teased playful. "Harry is quite attractive, though he thoroughly hides it beneath those awful clothes and those hideous glasses."

There was something about Harry that drew attention. When he first arrived at Hogwarts, he had been rather small and unremarkable visually speaking but on the train, this sixteen year old Harry Potter had matured beautifully despite the _'awful clothes and hideous glasses.' _The clothes couldn't conceal the quiet strength in his body, more than hinted at in the shoulders and thighs while sitting. Nor could the glasses hide what was naturally a striking face. He had a generous mouth, an aquiline nose with eyes so vibrant a green not even the glass could mar their intensity. Pain had carved mercilessly into his face, giving the already good looks a compelling command.

"Maybe he just doesn't like to flaunt he has the inheritance from his family, especially being friends with the Weasley clan." Daphne reasoned out. "You saw how Ronald Weasley behaved fourth year when he thought Harry entered the Tri-Wizard tournament."

"I thought that was the end of their friendship, frankly. It was definitely a betrayal on Weasley's part." Blaise had a very strict line on fidelity, especially after everything his mother had endured. Despite Malfoy's actions, most of Slytherin knew Potter hadn't voluntarily entered the tournament. His first reaction had been much too telling to be a falsehood. Weasley's jealousy was an ugly thing to witness. "Perhaps not, but I wouldn't be willing to place my trust so absolutely in Weasley after that."

"I think that's what makes Harry, well _Harry_." Tracey smiled softly. "Whether he knows it or not he upholds the traditions of his family very well."

* * *

**FSFSFSFS**

* * *

By the time the nights festivities was over, including the sorting of the first years, with four new Gryffindors sitting at the end of the table, Ron making a bit of a pig of himself at the feast and Hermione lecturing on table manners, and Dumbledore giving his usual speech, Harry was more than ready to call it a night.

While unpacking, he listened to his other roommates joke around . Seamus making fun of Ron finally getting a clue was a good laugh for them all. Neville and his newest herbology acquisition was flowering menacingly over in a corner next to his bed. It was just like every other year.

Normal, he was tempted to say.

Except he felt separated in a way he hadn't before. The others just seemed so, young, he realized sadly. They had their entire lives ahead of them. Sure war loomed ahead for the Wizarding world and they would probably be affected by it but right now the only things they had to worry about was class, teachers, homework and perhaps the next girl they would try to hit up.

It was enough to make him depressed if he thought on it long enough. Normalcy had never been apart of his life, not even back at the Dursleys. It probably never would at this point.

"Hey Harry, how did you get your school things if you were stuck with those relatives of yours all summer. I can't believe Dumbledore let you go to Diagon alley and not the Burrow."

"Remus picked them up for me. He dropped off my OWL results, waited while I selected my courses and brought my books over on his guard shift." Those had been the more unpleasant hours of his summer. Part of Harry was expecting Remus to be angry with him for getting Sirius killed he hadn't anticipated the guilt and wariness. He could have handled the man's anger better.

Harry settled the last of his books on the small bookcase next to his bed. Remus' presence hadn't gone over well with the Dursleys, but they couldn't complain as it meant that Harry would be leaving their house again for another ten months. Instead, his Uncle Vernon had added more chores to his endless list and confined him to his room when he wasn't working. A typical summer in Harry's opinion. Not that he could go further than the front yard in the first place, Dumbledore had made sure of that with his guards and demands he remain indoors as much as possible. He didn't want to necessarily be around his relatives either so his bedroom had become both sanctuary and prison.

"Well night, Harry." Ron spoke around a yawn before climbing into bed. All around them, everyone had either closed their bed curtains or gone to sleep. Ron opted for the later as he pulled the heavy comforter around him leaving only a tuff of red hair exposed. It would be a matter of minutes before he was asleep.

Harry set his rucksack beside his bed for class in the morning frowning at the book tucked neatly in the side pocket. "Good night," he mumbled absently, before grasping the book and pulling it free. A flick of his wand shut the curtains around his bed for privacy, then a quick _**Lumos **_brought forth a small light so he could see as he climbed under his own blankets.

He was reminded of Riddle's diary from second year but shook the thought off. The likely hood of a situation like that happening again was very slim. In fact, the book looked familiar. The dark green cover felt like dragon hide under his fingertips as he ran a hand across it, then opened it to the first page looking for a title or maybe a name for who had misplaced their book.

_**An Introduction to the Wizarding World**_

_**For the Curious Half-Blood**_

He wasn't expecting that and wondered who could have possibly thought he would be interested in reading it. Then was brought up short by the feminine script on the next page.

_Harry Potter,_

_This is a book I developed__ after Daphne had taken me under her tutelage to introduce me to the traditions and customs of Wizarding world that are not readily available to students here at Hogwarts. It is customarily given to Slytherin first years like ourselves who need a little guidance. _

_Why have I given it to you then, you have probably asked. Perhaps you are curious. Perhaps not. Inside you'll find the answers to a great many questions you may have come upon during your time here at Hogwarts. Or you'll simply toss it aside and think upon it no more. The choice is yours, of course._

_I believe there is enough Slytherin in you to find use for it. _

_For quick reference, merely tap your wand to the contents page and state the subject of your query. For example, Autumn Equinox. However, it is best to start as you mean to go._

_Perhaps we'll speak more this year, Harry Potter. Our conversation on the train was quite interesting indeed. Blaise and Daphne concur. _

_The library, Wednesdays at 8pm are a nice place to study, wouldn't you say? The three of us, along with a few other 6__th__ year students you are probably already acquainted with often gather there and we would value another intelligent wizard's contribution. _

_You're welcome to join us._

_Tracey Davis_

_~Slytherin_


	3. Chapter 3

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"We didn't get a chance to ask about your OWL results, Harry." Hermione paused in lifting a goblet of juice at breakfast the next morning. "How did you do?"

"Pretty good, I guess. E's in Transfiguration, Herbology and Potions, O in DADA, Care of Magical Creatures and Charms. I got an A in Astronomy, though and I didn't really care about Divination and History of Magic all things considered," he answered before eating another forkful of eggs. Not as many O's as he might have liked but his grades were well enough to take the required NEWT classes to become an Auror.

Snape would give him a hard time this year for having to give Harry special permission for entrance to NEWT level potions but it was the price to pay and he wasn't going to allow that foul mouthed git to hold him back. The bastard might not know the entire contents of the prophecy but even a fool could figure out it would all come down to Harry and Voldemort in the end. Even Snape couldn't deny it was important for him to receive that training for the War.

If he lasted that long, Harry though morosely. If Voldemort had his way, Harry wouldn't live to see his eighteenth birthday let alone long enough to begin Auror training.

"'Mione scored perfect OWLS across the board of course," Ron announced over a mouthful of food. It was a testament to six years of friendship that Harry understood a word he said.

"Ron, swallow," Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust. "Did you manage your NEWT potions?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore arranged things with Snape."

"Poor bastard." But Ron's voice wasn't all that sympathetic. In fact, he sounded downright amused. "I fortunately don't have to suffer through another year of that greasy bastard's put downs."

"And you won't be eligible for Auror training either," Hermione pointed out.

"Then I'll just have to scratch up something else!" Ron snapped back.

"Perhaps if you had studied harder during the year you would have managed more than an A on your potions OWL!"

"Not everyone lives and breathes books-"

"So what other classes are you taking 'Mione," Harry interrupted before a real argument started. Ron and Hermione might be dating but their arguments seemed to be as much apart of their relationship as the snogging.

"Oh the usual, though I dropped Care. It conflicted with Arithmancy and I'd much prefer that class anyway. I can always study on my own and take the NEWT later if I really need it."

"So you didn't pick any of the new ones?"

"New? No, I have a full course load as it is. Besides, those new classes weren't NEWT level. I did pick up the Apparition class in the spring. Are you taking something new?"

He had sat on the side of his bed with interested amazement when he read through his Hogwarts letter because he hadn't known there were other courses offered. Many of them looked interesting, like Wizarding law, just in case the Ministry decided to go after him again, and the Spell Crafting where he imagined designing the perfect hex to both get rid of Voldemort and make the bastard suffer all at the same time. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had posted a side note to his letter, saying he wanted Harry to keep much of his schedule clear for private instruction.

"Just the basic healing course along with Apparition in the spring. I thought it might come in handy, you know, with the war and all." He had put his foot down on that one regardless of what Dumbledore wanted. "What about you Ron?"

"I managed Charms, Transfiguration, DADA and Care of Magical with E's. Got A's in Astronomy, Potions and Divination," he finished the last in a near mutter and shoved another large spoonful of porridge in his mouth trying to cover his words.

"You actually passed Divination?" Harry couldn't believe it. For most of the work, they had made up stuff for Trelawney.

"Sight runs in my mum's side of the family," Ron shrugged it off, "Said she always thought I had a touch of it and I probably would have done better in the class if I actually did the work."

"I think that goes for all of your classes," Hermione added quietly earning a glare from her boyfriend.

"Wow." Harry didn't know what to say about that. Ron had never even mentioned that about the Weasleys, only that he thought Divination would be an easy class. "Guess you might have an all seeing eye after all Hun?"

He only had to twist a shoulder to avoid the bit of scone that Ron threw at him. Their giggles were quickly stifled when they saw Professor McGonagall heading in their direction.

"Good morning, Professor."

The Head of Gryffindor had been steadily making her way down the aisle passing out class schedules and here she was finally, giving the three of them looks of pained tolerance. Unless the average observer looked closer and saw affection mixed in her gaze. Professor McGonagall might be Hogwarts strictest Deputy Headmistress, but she did love her lions.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I gather from your rather enthusiastic behavior that you'll be prepared for class this morning." It was less a question and more a statement of fact.

"Yes, Ma'am." He accepted the offered schedule as she moved on to Hermione and Ron.

"Well what do you have?"

"Oh," he startled at Ron's voice. "Right, well, let's see. I have Herbology first thing and Potions later this morning."

"That means we're only in a few classes together. " Hermione didn't look happy at the prospect either.

"That's what happens when you have so many classes at NEWT level." Ron pointed out and as it stood, the three would only be in DADA, Charms, and Transfigurations together. He still had Potions with Hermione and Care of Magical Creatures with Ron but it still wasn't the same.

"At least the DADA Instructor looked promising." Hermione was cautiously optimistic given Professor Dumbledore's introduction last night. While the man appeared to be terribly average in both looks, with his dark brown hair and eyes and unremarkable robes, he had to be better than Umbridge. As a retired Auror, who was reputed to have fought in the first war, he could at least claim experience if nothing else.

"He's not another Lockheart, that's for certain." Ron who had been on the other end of the wand for Lockheart's attempted memory charm still held a grudge all these years later.

"And he's using proper books this year, not the rubbish Umbridge had us wasting our time with." That was probably the woman's worst offense in Hermione's opinion. At least in the previous years she had books to replace the awful class instruction. Last term, Hermione had been forced to loot Hogwarts library for knowledge.

"I'm not getting my hopes up too high. Not until after class this afternoon anyway. We could have another Mad Eye on our hands." Another of Ron's grudges, the spider demonstration back in fourth year.

"Wait, my Astronomy class is missing." Harry frowned down at his slip of paper. He had several blocks of time open with only a Private stamp and a class room number as indication of where he should go for class and with no indication of Professor.

_Class Times Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday_

_8:00am **Herbology Charms Herbology Charms Basic Healing**_

_(Sprout) (Flitwick) (Pomfrey)_

_9:00am **Priv. Rm7b Priv. Rm7b Herbology Charms Basic Healing**_

_(2nd Flr) _

_10:00am **Potions Transfiguration Potions Transfiguration Potions**_

_(Snape) (McGonagall) _

_11:00am **Potions Transfiguration Potions Priv. Rm7b Potions**_

_12:00pm Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch_

_1:00pm **DADA Care Mag. Crea DADA DADA**_

_(Sloan) (Hagrid)_

_2:00pm **DADA Priv. RM7b DADA Priv Rm7b DADA**_

_3:00pm **Priv TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA**_

_4:00pm **Priv TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA**_

**

* * *

****FSFSFS**

* * *

As it turned out, he was in Herbology with Neville who made the perfect partner. Easy going, intelligent and practically a genius in the subject, Neville helped to make Herbology interesting because it was a subject he loved and he wanted to share that enjoyment with Harry. The NEWT level class was mixed with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, so the atmosphere was relaxing and the optimal place to learn. They made plans to study and work on any future projects in the library together on Monday evenings after dinner. It would be an even trade off, Herbology for DADA. Harry knew they both would do well this year.

He had no idea what his next class would be, only knew he needed to rush back inside the castle to the second floor classrooms to find 7b. He would have asked Professor McGonagall this morning at breakfast if she had any idea what the cryptic instructions on his schedule meant but he hadn't wanted to draw his friends attention to the reason why they would no longer share classes the way they had in the years before.

The room was situated in a somewhat abandoned part of the castle. Causing him to receive more than a few bewildered glances wondering why he was moving in the opposite direction as everyone else.

"Come in Harry, we've been waiting for you." He heard the familiar voice call out just as he placed a hand on the door.

Inside, the space was at least three times larger than a normal class and virtually empty but for a long table and chairs set before a wall long blackboard. The stained glass windows were dusty from disuse but the morning sun still shone determinedly through illuminating the room enough to prove the house elves had at least started cleaning.

"Good Morning, Harry."

"Good Morning, Professor Dumbledore."

The two exchanged greetings after Harry had crossed the length of the area. Other than a few Owls during the summer, Harry hadn't spoken to the Headmaster since the life altering time in his office where Harry had almost destroyed everything.

He wasn't sure how he felt about the elder wizard now. The first time he saw Dumbledore at his sorting; the man seemed a kind, grandfatherly figure and as the years passed most of that image withstood the tests of time. Dumbledore had always seemed to care for him, was usually there when Harry needed him and willing to dispense small slices of wisdom even if he did seem to be a tad barmy.

Harry didn't know when that trust began to falter.

Maybe it was third year, when Dumbledore sent two kids off to rescue his godfather rather than helping.

Or perhaps it started when Harry was forced to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament which ultimately led to Voldemort's resurrection.

If not those years, then definitely the recent one, where Dumbledore all but ignored and abandoned him, forced him into that uncomfortable fiasco of Occlumency training with Snape and withheld knowledge about a prophecy pertaining to him that he was entitled to know.

Either way, the sheen was tarnished and the grandfatherly visage all but faded away. Did he still respect Dumbledore? Certainly. He couldn't have born witness to the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort and not respected the man's power and intelligence. Trust that Dumbledore wanted Voldemort vanquished? Yes. To consider Harry's best interests over the rest of the Wizarding world?

No, and that answer made something harsh and jaded pang in his heart.

Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix were charged with destroying Voldemort and stopping his Death Eaters. Not with saving Harry Potter. There was a very big difference between the two.

As usual, he would have to survive on his own.

"Please have a seat." The graying wizard gestured to an empty chair, "And how are you doing today Harry?" The twinkle in those blue eyes was dimmed, as he had obviously acknowledged the relationship between the two of them had changed as well.

"As well as can be expected, sir. And yourself?"

If he was surprised by the question, Dumbledore didn't show it. Instead a small smile touched his lips as he answered, "I suppose the same could be said for myself as well. I feel I must apologize for insisting you remain with your relatives this summer, Harry. I'm sure you would have preferred spending the last weeks of your break with the Weasleys at the Burrow."

That went without saying. "I understood, sir." Understanding and agreement were not the same.

"I'm sure you did. If things had been different-"

"But they're not, sir." Harry interrupted, not wanting to hear excuses.

He spent the summer trapped in a room barely larger than the cupboard under the stairs where he had spent most of his childhood. He was fed inadequate meals through a cat flap on the door. Given ridiculously long lists of chores he was required to finish before the sun went down and verbally abused whenever one of the Dursleys had the inclination, which meant anytime they were within two feet of him. Alone and grieving.

He really didn't want to hear excuses.

"That's just the way it is." He nodded once, to take the sting off his cold words. There was no sense in laying blame. The one thing he had learned this summer was there were more important things and whining like a child over circumstances that he could not change would not keep him alive.

"You're right, of course." Harry might hate to see the stricken expression on the Headmaster's face but he had to focus on the bigger picture. "I'm sure you've been wondering about the class blocks on your schedule that were marked Private."

"You mentioned something in your letter this summer about private instruction; I thought this is what you meant. Though, I did select NEWT level Astronomy and it wasn't blocked in."

"Yes, and while pursuing a NEWT in Astronomy is a very worthy ambition, I believe it will be beneficial for you to take advantage of other avenues of learning, as the War shall soon begin in earnest."

Harry frowned, glancing at the two others listening to their conversation, wondering if Dumbledore should be speaking so freely. Noticing the direction of his thoughts, a soft chuckle emerged from the wizened man. "This brings us to why you're here. I'd like to introduce you to two of our newest Order members Harry. I'm sure you're at least familiar with Professor Septima Vector?"

He did recognize her from sitting at the head table during the opening feast. Up close, she was very beautiful. Long hair, dark as a raven's wing hung in a riot of curls over slender shoulders. She had vivid blue eyes that were smudged with smoky grey shadow and gleamed with wit and intellect.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," she greeted him with a quick grin that seemed very friendly.

"Professor." He nodded in return, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but focused on the image of witch before him. Beneath teaching robes, she wore a simple but very form fitting violet velvet dress. She was covered from neck to floor and still managed to remind him of some mythical siren. If he thought she was beautiful before, that paled in comparison once her entire focus was on him.

"I'm not sure if you're aware, but Professor Vector instructs Arithmancy here at Hogwarts." Dumbledore explained.

"Oh, that's Hermione's favorite class."

"And Ms. Granger is very proficient. One of my more curious students."

"Yes, Ms. Granger is a most formidable witch," Dumbledore agreed. "However, what you may not be aware of, Harry is Septima's dual mastery in both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

"How does this relate to me, sir. I didn't take Ancient Runes or Arithmacy as electives."

"And it will be my responsibility to remedy that, Mr. Potter," Professor Vector assured him. "I'm not sure if you're aware of it, but there is a great deal more to magic than what is instructed here at Hogwarts. After attaining NEWT certification, most wizards and witches, pursue careers, whether they be in the Ministry or another field. Very few remain in the world of academia, and even less attain Mastery of various disciplines of magic we have available."

"But how does that help me. I can't attain Mastery in a subject I know nothing about."

"Of course not child," she chuckled lightly, it was husky and warm, not mocking at all. "I'm sure you remember Professor Snape's opening lecture from your first year about foolish wand waving." She smiled once again at his expression. "Everyone knows Professor Snape's views on Potions. Most of us feel the same pride regarding our chosen fields. However there is a level of truth to his words. Magic isn't all about wands, Harry and you'll need to learn that if you wish to defeat you-know-who."

"But shouldn't I have started back in third year?"

"Ideally, yes. I would have guided you toward Arithmacy and Ancient Runes when you were selecting your electives, but I am biased about my subjects." As much as he loved Hagrid, Harry wished this Professor had been there to guide him as well. "You're instruction will simply be more intense and faster paced. What I can teach you are various things that may or may not help you in your pursuit. Teach you how to manipulate magic in ways many have forgotten."

"How?"

"That is what you'll be discovering during your scheduled times with the Professor, Harry," Dumbledore drew the focus back to him just as their discussion was getting interesting. "Before we get ahead of ourselves, I'd also like to introduce you to Mr. Leopold Shacklebolt."

The name sounded familiar. "Is he-"

"Yes, Harry, he would be the younger brother of Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, whom I'm sure you remember."

The two men's features were similar enough that Harry could see the relation. In fact, this Leopold looked a lot like what the Auror must have looked like when he was younger. Including the bald head and the neatly trimmed goatee.

It wasn't usual to find wizards in muggle clothing and even then the items were mixed matched, in awful colors or inappropriate. Shacklebolt looked very comfortable in dark baggy denims and a black v-neck sweater beneath a great looking dark brown leather bomber jacket.

"How do you do, Mr. Shacklebolt?"

"Please," he grinned displaying a set of dimples and then held out a hand to shake. "Mr. Shacklebolt is my father. You can call me Leo."

"Then, I'm Harry." He accepted the gesture with a smile in return.

"Mr. Shacklebolt, will be instructing you in both dueling and defensive fighting." Dumbledore explained.

It made sense for an outside source to come in, Harry reasoned. Most of the Professors were busy with classes or missions for the Order. Any Aurors would be out working or also on missions as well. And the last thing Dumbledore wanted was to draw the Ministry's attention once more to Hogwarts.

"It will be my responsibility to get you into shape for this war Harry." Leo nodded once, serious for the moment. "We'll be working not just on dueling, though it will occupy a large portion of our time together."

"What do you mean, into shape?" He was in pretty decent shape, wasn't he. He played Quidditch. It wasn't like he was fat like Dudley.

"I'm going to be honest with you Harry." Leo gave him a very intense look that made Harry nervous. "I have two jobs, one in the muggle world and in the magical world. Both are very similar. At the moment, I'm on temporary leave from Interpol." At Harry's sharp gasp, he nodded, "Good, I see you're familiar with the organization. I also work within the Ministry of Magic within the Department of Mysteries."

"You're an Unspeakable?"

"Yes, I am. My point being, during the course of my career, there are times when I can't use Magic. Whether due to the threat of exposure to muggles or I'm simply unable. You have to be able to defend yourself Harry and to think and get yourself out of dangerous situations. Professor Dumbledore has told me a lot about you and your friends, Ron and Hermione right?"

"Yeah. I can always depend on them."

"Well, there are going to be times when you can't. For one reason or another. War isn't pretty Harry. People die. And our goal is to prevent as much loss of life that we can and defeat you-know-who and his Death Eaters once and for all. Where you are right now, it's not going to happen. But hopefully, with my help, I can get you there. If you're willing to work with me, that is. Honest hard work Harry. No short cuts."

Harry looked at Professor Dumbledore and in that moment probably could have forgiven him for most of the wrongs Harry had faced in his life for finding him this one straight forward speaking man who was willing to help him and wasn't promising miracles or trying to shield him from reality.

"I'm willing."


	4. Chapter 4

**Rated M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or premise of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Four**

It was just after eight when the last of their study group entered the library. Rather than their usual table, Daphne chose one in the back near the stacks by the rear wall for more privacy but could still be seen by anyone crossing the threshold.

There wasn't much to review, as classes had only started on Monday but there was more to this meeting than homework. It was a welcome for their Coven, to greet each other as they began the year at Hogwarts anew.

Blaise knew Tracey was anxious to discover if Harry would come tonight but he just didn't believe the Gryffindor was ready yet. In fact, Blaise wasn't sure if Harry would accept at all. Not that Harry held any harsh feelings toward them, he had proven open-minded on the train. There were just so many obstacles in Harry's life, not the least his friends and house associations, which would hinder his association even with the so called outcast Slytherins. It might be best to write him off as an impossibility.

"I'm sure he'll come soon." Daphne tried to comfort her friend with a gentle hug. She pressed a light kiss to her cheek, when Tracey sighed despondently. "Besides, its only the beginning of the year. I'm sure Granger and Weasley haven't let him out of their sight."

This proved that Daphne was thinking along the same lines. Given Tracey's disappointment, she probably was as well, she just didn't like it.

"They act as if Harry isn't allowed to have associations other than their little circle." Tracey mumbled, as she began setting her books so she could start on her assignments.

"They're protective," Daphne corrected. "And with good cause, don't you think?"

"If you say so," the brunette reluctantly agreed, though they both could tell she wanted to argue.

Daphne's words were proven by Granger's actions in Potions that morning. Given Harry's past relations with Professor Snape and the other sixth year Slytherins Blaise could understand her suspicion. Yet there were times during the double period, her behavior was almost ridiculous. If Harry had any hope of not merely passing the class but learning, he needed to partner with someone other than his best friend. Rather than allow him to work, Granger practically took over the brewing. This left Harry to either play errand boy, prepare ingredients, to her perfect specifications of course, or be regulated to observer.

Harry probably thought Granger was doing him a favor but it was only setting Harry up for Professor Snape's future wrath, when he couldn't perform without his fellow Gryffindors assistance.

Given the small group of students who actually achieved an Outstanding on their Potion's Owl, the class was generally mixes of the houses, leaning heavily toward Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Snape wasted no time informing everyone how Harry was allowed special entrance to class. As there were only four Slytherins class, including him and Daphne, the Professor was wasting his time trying to draw the students' ire toward Harry.

Most Hufflepuffs couldn't wait to get out of Potions as they couldn't tolerate Professor Snape's callousness. The few who remained, were friends with Harry and merely ignored the remarks. The Ravenclaws wouldn't care, as they would only see Harry's admittance as a diligent pursuit of knowledge, a trait Ravenclaws wholeheartedly supported. It also helped they were friends with Harry as well. As Granger was the only other Gryffindor, the Professor's performance while outstanding in its veracity was pointless.

"Granger was in rare form today. I'm stunned she has time for a relationship with Weasley given how much devotion she shows her studies. And mothering Harry."

It wasn't that Daphne didn't like Harry's friend. It was more of a dislike of how she tried to thrust her knowledge down everyone else's throat. It was very off putting. They all knew how smart Granger was, it just seemed subtlety was a lost art to her.

"She wasn't so bad Daph," Tracey admonished lightly. The three of them also shared Arithmancy and Ancient Runes with the girl.

"sometimes she speaks to Harry as though he's an ignorant child and because Professor Snape has ridiculed him in class so much and allows Malfoy to sabotage Harry's work, he simply lets her talk to him that way as if she's done him some grand favor.

"They're friends. I'm sure we simply don't understand the dynamics of their friendship. Look at the way we relate to one another, perhaps they're saying the same about us. I don't think Harry _allows_ her to speak that way, but merely understands it is just apart of her character and accepts her for it."

"And if she were to attempt speaking to you that way?" Daphne asked, lips pursed as if daring her friend to speak anything less than the truth.

"Well I'd have you to put her back into her place, now wouldn't I," Tracey teased, pressing her own kiss to Daphne's cheek.

"You're talking about Harry aren't you?" They glanced up at the question, noting the final member of their circle had arrived. Susan Bones had been was the last person they expected to agree to joining their coven but she was surprisingly adept at the old ways.

Then, there were a great many things the Hufflepuff concealed from the rest of Hogwarts. Though she had graduated from pigtails, she still wore her long wavy auburn tresses in a neat ponytail often found laying across her shoulder. As they had all changed out of their school uniforms for the evening, she was subtly displaying her curvy figure in a simple dark blue jersey dress.

"I can always tell when people are talking about Harry and his friends by the sound of frustration in their voice." Susan grinned, before taking a seat.

"What do you mean by that?" This question was posed by fellow Hufflepuff, Ernie MacMillan, who was also a member and one of the first Tracey had recruited. MacMillan was slightly arrogant but he had genuine ability and his family upheld the old traditions faithfully.

"What she means is that Hermione and Ron have declared ownership of Harry and anyone who wants to get close to him, must have their permission," Ravenclaw Padma Patil answered. Her twin Pavarti, was a Gryffindor and was even escorted to the Yule Ball by Harry, while she had attended with Ron. Everyone knew what a disaster that evening was. "Yes, I guess they're protecting him, because Hogwarts students are fickle and have been cruel to Harry. It's just a shame we probably won't get the opportunity to really get to know him, he seems so nice."

"He is," Susan agreed, "And shy, though he's very powerful."

Daphne glanced at Blaise who gestured for her to begin. "It will be a shame to lose the Potter family."

"What do you mean by that?" Tracey demanded.

"What she means," Terry Boot, the final member of their Coven and Ravenclaw as well, "Is that Harry is a Weasley all but in name. I'm not saying anything against the Weasley family, I'm sure they're good people and it's fine Harry feels like he can be apart of their family but it's a shame the Wizarding world will lose the Potter heritage."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they're not setting up a marriage contract between him and Ginny," Susan snickered softly. "She certainly adores Harry and wouldn't argue against it."

"Harry has no idea the Wizarding world even honors marriage contracts," Padma rolled her eyes. "He's incredibly naïve still when it comes to the heritage he was born to. What upsets me, is that he doesn't even attempt to learn."

"A bit difficult, when you have a Dark Lord in the shadows waiting to kill you," Blaise spoke up finally, not liking the direction the conversation was taking. While he might agree with some of the things being said, it wasn't their place to judge Harry, his friends, or his choices.

"I agree," Tracey nodded, they all knew how she felt about gossiping and their discussion was deteriorating in that direction. "So we wait to see if he accepts our invitation and that's all we can do."

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

Thursday afternoon as he made his way to the second floor classroom where it had been decided both of his private lessons would be held, Harry was feeling apprehensive of what the next three hours would hold. For this first week, Professor Vector, or Septima as she had invited him to call her while they were working, had allowed Leo to claim most of the blocked time as she was still preparing her lesson plan for him and dealing with her classes. They would meet on Friday for the first time, where she promised she had a very stimulating start in plan for him.

Meanwhile, Leo had suggested a three day evaluation so he would be able to gauge where Harry's talents lay and what deficiencies to correct . Today they would sit down and discuss a training plan. It wasn't that Harry was afraid of hard work but he knew he was a more tactile learner. He was never one for books like Hermione, being much better at hands on instruction. Leo seemed like a really smart guy and the last thing he wanted was to waste his instructor's time struggling through books and concepts that would probably evade him.

As he entered the classroom, he noted the house elves progress in cleaning. Where before was years of dust and grime, hardwood floors gleamed. There was a new door at the rear of the room, signaling either a closet or office had been added. The ceilings strangely enough were higher and as the door closed behind him, the room became utterly quiet indicating the liberal use of silencing charms. Wouldn't want curiosity seekers peeking inside to see what was going on, Harry reasoned.

"Hey Harry." The same masculine voice he had listened to call out various hexes and jinxes at him in a threatening growl, greeted him with a smile. Though still in muggle clothing, Leo was extremely casual today in dark denims, white trainers and a black long sleeved t-shirt. He sat behind the table that was covered with several different packages, books and parchment. "How were classes today?"

"Pretty good. Can't decide if I like the way the double Charms and Transfigurations have been divided but I guess I'll get used to it." The single hour lessons were for theory and test days when applicable. Double hour classes were for practical and working on projects later on during the year. "At least Defense is together, though I don't think I would have minded Potions that way."

"And your defense teacher? Heard he was a retired Auror, is he any good?"

"Better than Umbridge at least," Harry admitted still not ready to give Professor Sloan an approval just yet. "Then again, anyone would be better than her, so that's not really saying much."

"I asked Kingsley how he rated as an Auror the other night. He didn't have anything bad to say." Leo shrugged, "I guess this would be a case of no news being good news. " After a moment, he gestured to the chair opposite him. "Why don't you have a seat and we can get started."

The knot of tension he carried around in his stomach most of the day tightened as he slid carefully into the chair and folded his hands in his lap. He took several quick breaths before looking up at the Unspeakable waiting for the verdict. Only to start as Leo started chuckling.

"It's not the end of the world Harry," he smiled through the amusement in his voice. "You haven't done anything wrong. In fact, I'd say the results of the past three days are very promising."

"Really?" He was almost afraid to hope but hearing those words did take the edge off of his fears.

"Yes, really. I was a little surprised actually. Considering what I had heard of the DADA instructors here the last few years, I wasn't expecting your spell work or your dueling prowess to be as advanced as it is. I read the report on your excursion through the Department of Mysteries and you'll be pleased to know it left a great deal of information out. I'm certain that was Dumbledore's handiwork."

Considering how many Death Eater informants were in the Ministry, Dumbledore keeping information a secret was no surprise. "That sounds like him."

"However well you performed there, I don't want you to forget the surrounding circumstances of that night. Those Death Eaters were there in secret, hoping to avoid exposure to the Ministry. Meaning, they held back Harry."

The words hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. He had been feeling proud of the way he and his friends had held their own against those Death Eaters that he hadn't even considered that piece of information.

"It doesn't mean that you didn't perform well, it just means that Death Eaters are vicious and not to be underestimated. It would be remiss of me to allow you to believe that is the extent of their magic. They were feared for a reason. Death Eaters have an arsenal of Dark Arts spell work that is cruel and malicious and the thing of nightmares."

"You're right. That is what I needed to hear. I know they like killing, most of the time without provocation. I saw them at the Quidditch World Cup and I saw the way Wormtail just slaughtered Cedric on Voldemort's orders." He swallowed heavily, as the memories pressed in on him. Cedric's blank gaze, forever sightless and he didn't stand a chance. "The way Bellatrix murdered Sirius," he finished in a shaky whisper. The tears he had sworn he was finished shedding, blurred his vision for a second before he dragged in a deep breath and shoved his grief back down. "When I'm faced with them again, they won't be trying to get a prophecy from me. It will be capture for Voldemort or to kill me."

"It doesn't seem quite fair does it?"

Harry looked up from his fingers that were pale and twisting nervously. "No it doesn't."

"Would you like to know the reason why I agreed to work with you Harry?" The only reaction he could give to the question was a shrug. He thought Leo was here on Dumbledore's orders. "Yes, I was asked to help you but I could have said no, I had that option."

"Then why?"

"Kingsley's told me a lot about you over the past few years. How you faced down Voldemort at eleven, Basilisks, trolls, and dementors and competed in and won the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Sneaking a group of teenagers into the Department of Mysteries only to face off against Death Eaters. He told me how he had never met a kid with more sheer balls than Harry Potter."

The profanity startled a snort of laughter from Harry before he covered his face and dissolved in hilarity. He had been expecting, well frankly Harry didn't know what he had been expecting but definitely not that. Leo waited until he caught his breath, watching with a mild grin before speaking again.

"My mother is very fond of saying that we're never given more than we're capable of handling. That the Powers that Be know if the burdens we are faced with will crush us or if we are able to stand and be strong against them. I'm proud my job is to help you stand strong."

Leo hadn't said how Harry was supposed to be the chosen one, or how he was the savior. Merely, stated his belief that he could stand against Voldemort. Harry nodded once in acknowledgement and thanks. "So how do we start?"

"We start with training you both physically and mentally. As I was saying, you're a very good dualist. However, time is not on your side when you're fighting." Leo stopped, frowning down at the parchment he had picked up from the table. "We need to work on your endurance. To do that, you need to put on some weight."

Now he understood Leo's hesitation. He knew he had lost at least ten pounds over the summer break and they were ten pounds his already slim frame could ill afford. Typically any weight he lost while back at the Dursley's would be back on by winter break. He just hated that someone was faced with the abuse he lived with at his relatives.

"I can do that," he answered in a voice that pleaded silently for those questions on Leo's mind to remain unasked.

"Alright," Leo agreed slowly, and for that Harry was extremely grateful. "We'll start slowly. As we'll only have two hours each afternoon to work together, some things will be up to you. We'll occasionally work on weekends but mostly those days are your responsibility. I'm not going to hold your hand through workouts, this is your training and you will be held accountable for your actions."

"Such as?" Because he was starting to get a little worried.

"You'll start the day with a morning run. Fifteen minutes to begin with until you're in better shape. Then you'll finish up with two sets of sit-ups, push-ups and pull-ups, 50/20/5 which will increase weekly and some stretching to loosen up your muscles so you won't cramp up. Those I'll show you a bit later."

"you want me to do that before classes?" The look of horror on his face amused Leo as he started laughing again.

"I always get in a morning run at about 6am before work Harry. You'll get used to it."

"Six?"

"I hate it too and I've been doing it for twelve years."

Harry looked at Leo's physique which was nothing to laugh at if the muscles filling out that black t-shirt was any indication and decided maybe a morning run wouldn't outright kill him. Maybe.

"Fine," he dragged the word out, kissing his mornings of sleeping in good bye.

"Next is your meal plan."

"Meal Plan!"

"Before breakfast, you'll take these nutritional supplemental potions, provided by your Madam Pomfrey." Leo pushed a small metal box over to him. Harry slipped open the lid, noting the slim tubes with a grimace. He could almost feel the green thick slop going down and knew it wouldn't be a pleasant experience. "You'll pick up a new supply for the week after your healing class on Fridays. I should warn you, Madam Poppy has wanted to give you these for years now and was happy to be of assistance and will probably be checking to make sure you're not skipping any."

"I'm not that bad," he pouted, ignoring Leo's gruff denial that had words that sounded like 'strong wind' mixed in.

"For breakfast, you'll have at least a small bowl of porridge and a piece of fruit. Whatever else you'd like is up to you. I don't know what wizards have against milk but I'm certain the house elves won't have a problem getting you a glass. Lunch must include a piece of fruit of some type, and two vegetables. Milk there too. Dinner you can have a glass of that vile pumpkin juice but you'll have two vegetables there as well and only a small portion of desert."

"That's an awful lot of food," he really wasn't used to paying much attention to his diet, typically filling his plate with whatever he felt like consuming at the time.

"You'll be burning a lot of calories each day. And using a lot of magic. You'll need the vitamins and minerals you'll get to help you put on not only weight but a bit more muscle as well."

"I didn't know wizards knew about vitamins."

"I spend a great deal of time in the Muggle world due to my position with Interpol, Harry. I like to believe I have the best of both worlds." He pushed two other boxes in Harry's direction. "This brings us to our next portion of the program. Training."

Frowning, Harry opened the smallest box first, a grin lighting up his face as he pulled out the wand holster. "I always wanted one of these after seeing Moody's."

"Can't practice constant vigilance if your wand is in your pocket. I could have hexed you six different ways by the time you got it out. Wear it. At all times, no excuses. You are to never be without your wand Harry, no matter the circumstances. We are at a stage in the war where anything can happen and you can't protect yourself if you aren't armed."

The holster was light and warm against his arm from the charms he could feel placed on the dark red dragon hide. A quick flick of his wrist and his wand was settled safely in the palm of his hand. "Thank you."

"No problem," Leo nudged him toward the other box. Harry frowned down into the open container, not understanding, then looked up in denial. "No arguing. You can't learn effectively, if you can't move comfortably."

Nestled inside the white tissue paper were two pairs of trainers, one a pristine white, the other dark blue with white and red trimming. Beneath those were seven pairs of fleece pants each with either a matching hooded pullover or trucker sweat tops, in shades of navy, dark grey or green and black, a dozen each of short and long sleeved t-shirts in multiple colors and thick white socks.

"I can't accept this."

"You can and you will." The calm words brooked no argument. "It's no different than buying books or supplies for your other classes. You simply didn't have the means to purchase these and I did." Leo shook his head, "And don't even think of insulting me by saying you'll pay me back. I did this because I wanted to. Believe me, you'll need this and more by the time I'm finished. Just say thank you and let it be done."

He could never understand why Ron wouldn't accept gifts from him and here he was doing the same thing with Leo. _'Bit of a hypocrite, now Harry?_' a mocking voice in his head queried and that decided things for him.

"Thank you."

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

For the next two days, Harry thought getting up at six in the morning might not be so bad. Mostly because by the time he went to bed the night before he was so exhausted he slept all the way through the night. The running wasn't so bad, though he might never be able to express his gratitude for the new trainers. Running in Dudley's old shoes would have been worse than running barefoot. He made it through the sit-ups easily, the push-ups were more of a challenge. The chin-ups were very nearly a waltz through hell. And he thought he was in shape. The bar he found to perform the exercises mocked him each time he approached it.

No, he was getting plenty of sleep. The bar truly was mocking him, in a sarcastic voice that sounded very much like a nasal Frenchman. Or it was possibly the portrait across from him. He was usually too tired to tell the difference.

Leo had explained most of his plans for the first month, lots of exercises concentrating on agility and strength conditioning. They would work their way through some boxing, kick boxing and what Leo called good old fashioned street brawling. He looked very gleeful then and Harry had to manfully restrain a tremble of fear. Eventually they would work on knife fighting but only when Leo was satisfied Harry could handle himself in a fight without getting hurt.

The Unspeakable had also promised to instruct him on how to care for and operate a handgun. When Harry pointed out that most magic could shield against bullets, Leo had quietly countered with the fact that a silver bullet would do to a raging werewolf what magic couldn't. It was hard to dispute that argument.

At the moment he was in the Gryffindor common room trying to study for his other classes, though Leo's latest assignment wasn't far from his mind and it was due the next day. Even with classes more challenging, things were much like years that had passed. Each Professor had lectured the first day about the difficulties 6th and 7th year students faced in NEWT level courses. All stressed the importance of time management and diligent study for the impending NEWT exam in 7th year. Then each and every one proceeded to hand out an insane amount of homework usually consisting of reading many chapters of text, intense practice of spell work and several feet of essays to assure comprehension.

Had he been tasked with this much work even last year, he probably would have been complaining like Ron. Constantly. Incessantly. Annoyingly. He had to wonder how Hermione put up with the two of them for so long.

It wasn't that he suddenly discovered a love for academia, far from it. Given a choice, he would prefer to be doing anything else. He basically understood now that if he didn't learn and incorporate the knowledge his Professors were trying to impart, he would die.

That made his choices quite simple.

Ron of course had given him several strange looks when Hermione suggested they study or work on homework and he didn't express the same aversion Ron did.

"Harry, I thought you said you had a Potions paper to finish, that isn't our book for class."

"It isn't, it's for my independent study course," he muttered before he realized what he was saying.

"Independent study? We weren't offered a course like that!" Hermione sounded offended and interested all at the same time. He hadn't told them about his private training, partly because Dumbledore suggested he keep the particulars to himself but mostly to avoid this conversation. He didn't want Hermione or Ron to feel like they were being excluded and anytime someone tried to withhold knowledge from Hermione she became extremely upset.

"It's for the war, Hermione." He clarified, trying to keep the arguing at a minimum.

"That's all the more reason why we should be included, don't you think? We're going to be there at your side fighting, V-Vol-Voldemort, we could use the extra training."

"You'd have to speak to Dumbledore about it then." He put the blame off on the Headmaster, let him deal with it.

"Maybe we could start the DA again, Harry, and you could show us, you know like last year." Ron's idea wasn't a bad one but he didn't know if he would have time.

"Yes! I don't believe Professor Dumbledore would mind if we started the DA again."

"We'll have to wait and see Hermione. I mean Professor Sloan isn't a bad instructor and classes just started. We should give it a few weeks and let everyone settle in before making a decision."

"Fine," she sighed, "As long as you keep it in mind." She set her work aside, focusing on him fully now. "So what are you working on?"

"I need thirteen spells by tomorrow. Seven offensive and six defensive. Spells that I would make apart of my general arsenal, you know that I use regularly."

Leo claimed these would be his 'bread and butter' spells. Spells he would be able to use so well and accurately that the effect on his magic would become negligible. They would train those thirteen spells until he could do them silently as well.

"So what do you have so far?" Ron asked getting interested.

"For offensive, expelliarmus, stupefy and reducto. I was thinking of adding incendio, diffindo and confringo." They were both silent looking at him funny. "What's wrong with those?"

"They're very powerful," Hermione spoke up, "For spells that you want use regularly. Especially Reducto and Confringo. Are you certain you want those?"

He hasn't considered those two overly powerful, but seeing their expressions he didn't want to tell them that either. "Well I thought about expulso and depulso," he paused at Ron's widening eyes. "I guess I'll see what Leo says."

"Leo?" Ron asked in a choked voice.

"My Professor, he said I could call him by his first name. It's not a big deal. Anyway," he shrugged, "For my defensive spells, definitely my Patronus. Maybe Confundo, Protego absolutely, impedimenta, langlock and I can't decide between petrificus totalus and serpensortia."

"Why would you want a snake conjuring spell as a defensive spell?

"Ron," Hermione murmured. "Harry is a parselmouth, remember."

"Leo says I should take advantage of all of my strengths. Even the ones I may not necessarily like."

"Maybe you should keep that one as a surprise," Ron suggested. "You know, since, you-know-who is a parselmouth and how everyone reacted in second year."

He didn't like it but Ron was probably right. "What about locomotor mortis instead then?"

"What's the hurry, you have plenty of time to make a decision."

"I just want to get this settled, Leo expects me to have a plan ready for class tomorrow."

"What's happened to you Harry. Two days straight you've been acting like 'Mione with all of this studying. Are you sick or something?"

This wasn't the first time he'd heard this complaint, or something near it anyway. And it always offended Hermione. He would think Ron would get the message by now that insulting his girlfriend wasn't exactly the proper thing to do.

"Perhaps, Ron, if you took your own studies more seriously like Harry, then you would be rushing about at the last minute trying to finish the last foot of essay before class begins."

"Look guys," he tried to hold off the forth coming argument but as usual he found resistance was futile.

"Just because I have a life other than reading, doesn't mean I don't take my work seriously."

"Oh really? I'm sure you just have so many activities on your busy schedule. Chess, exploding snap and let's not forget the ever popular, eating."

"don't forget quidditch," Ron pointed out, missing the thick layer of sarcasm permeating Hermione's words.

"yes because we all know flying around on brooms is more important than your future."

Their arguments typically deteriorated from here, with Ron growing more insulting with every word and Hermione's feelings getting hurt before she finally got fed up and stormed away fighting off tears and fury. This year, his best friends seemed to realize all that pent up frustration could be released in an entirely different manner.

"I do so thin about the future. Suppose you'll always be after me to something one way or another," Ron smiled sheepishly before turning to his girlfriend.

It had to be love for Hermione to fall for that load of manure. Sure enough, the tension in her face softened to a shy smile. "Oh Ronald."

And, "Five, four, three two-" Harry muttered, more than a little put out as their study session became something else. A snogging one. He didn't begrudge the two a relationship but that didn't mean he wanted front row seats and vivid images to go along with it.

"I'm heading up guys." Neither of them were paying any attention, closing the distance between each other. Rolling his eyes he gathered his things. At the base stairs, he gave them one last look, grimacing at the path Ron's hand was traveling. "Oh, Merlin, my eyes," he snorted and jogged up.

_FSFSFS_

Seeing as he had finished the potions essay due the next day, Harry packed his things away for the night. He had the spells he wanted and Leo would probably approve of most of them or offer better suggestions. It was difficult staying on task, focusing so intently on his work and he was forced to acknowledge how much time he had wasted during his previous years at Hogwarts.

After a long hot shower and dressing for bed, he went to slip his glasses off and place them on the night stand but halted at the green book stuffed into his bookcase.

He wasn't hiding it from his friends. Not exactly. He just hadn't decided what he want to do about it yet. Ron's reaction was easy to predict. Ron would demand he burn it immediately. He wouldn't even try to understand why Harry held on to it for so long in the first place.

Hermione would be more cautious on the principle of it being a book and her respect for those would initially overcome any instinctive repulsion. The fact that it was very similar to Voldemort's diary from second year was the first strike against it. Coming from a Slytherin was also not in it's favor. After careful consideration, Hermione would insist he turn it over to Professor McGonagall so she could assure it's safety.

Harry might have agreed at once with both opinions but he had a feeling this book wasn't meant to be shared or passed around with anyone but the intended. Granted last year his instincts hadn't done him any favors but he had been working in the dark with several elements against him.

The ministry was out to get him, Snape was rifling violently through his memories, Dumbledore was avoiding him and withholding valuable information and Voldemort had taken up residence in his mind. It was a wonder he was still sane.

All were blows to not only his confidence but to the instinctive belief in himself that he tried to keep throughout the hellish years with the Dursleys.

Everything had changed and he was slowly piecing himself back together. His initial distrust of anything Slytherin was no longer there.

Also, his curiosity was aroused. Hermione would say that trait would be his downfall one day. In the past his inquisitiveness had brought him no favors. Perhaps he should be wary and get rid of the book but he couldn't help himself, just like Davis had said.

He wanted to read it.

Ron grew up in a pureblood family. Not a typical one but much about the Wizarding world Ron took for granted everyone knew anyway. If there was something to know, Hermione had already read three books about it already. That's how determined she was to fit into the place where some thought a muggle-born had no place.

He just went along, waiting either for Ron or Hermione to tell him what he needed to know, without taking the initiative to explore the Wizarding world on his own. And that pretty much decided for him. He was tired of being spoon fed information on a need to know basis, usually with him being the last to need to know. It was time for research of his own. He didn't have to take the class if he wanted to learn more about Wizarding law or spell casting. Hogwarts had a full library waiting for him to take advantage of its contents. This little book, causing him so much inner turmoil, whether good or bad, was a fine place to start.

He quickly flipped open to the first chapter and grunted, feeling let down after such a building climax. _**"Etiquette for the Proper Witch and Wizard."**_

"Bloody hell, just how different can that be," he groaned but settled down to read anyway.

By the end of the chapter he was not so apathetic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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* * *

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**Chapter Five**

Harry didn't know exactly what awakened him exactly that Thursday morning the second week of school. One moment he was in a peaceful sleep and the next he found his eyes drifting open. The room was strangely silent for once, the absence of Ron's snoring and occasional sleep talk was probably what disturbed his sleep. Despite the blurry view, he could tell it was nearing time to wake for his run. He must have forgotten to close his curtain because he could see the darkness gradually making way for daybreak.

Forgot to close his curtain…

"Shite," he scrambled up from the blankets tangled around him looking for the book he had fallen asleep reading. "Where is it?" He patted down his bed furiously, feeling his breath catch when the lump beneath was finally discovered.

"Bloody hell." He was pants at keeping secrets from his best friends and keeping this book from his friends was becoming more difficult by the day. It was different when he hadn't read it but now he found himself entranced by the damned thing.

_Maybe that was the trick_, he could hear a voice that sounded like Ron's say, _to keep him preoccupied so that when danger struck he'd be unmindful. _

After reading the first chapter on Etiquette, he moved on to Traditions and History then Rituals and Spells which he had just finished looking through last night. What he really appreciated were the references inside, so that when he was dragged to the library for homework by Hermione, he could sneak off to the stacks and quickly search out the book referenced and check it out from the library. Hermione and Ron were usually so focused on each other they never even realized what he was doing. Part of him was upset, and then the part that wasn't ready for them to know what he was doing would tell the insulted one to be grateful they were distracted.

Monday morning after he read the chapter on Etiquette, he went down to breakfast without his friends. He wanted to observe the houses as the students came in to eat and see how much of the book was accurate and how much was simply a 'Slytherin thing'. It had earned him several sideways glances from Hermione for uncharacteristic behavior but she remained silent for the time being.

The emergence of the Slytherin house was a mere ten minutes after he had sat down. Not just the 6th years like he might have believed but the entire house lead by the 7th year Prefects. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, it was quite a sight to behold. Each student filed in to wait behind their chair. He immediately noticed they were all neatly groomed, ties straight, sweaters buttoned, pants neatly pressed. It was something he thought solely related to Malfoy, had even joked about it with Ron, but it wasn't just Malfoy. Even the 1st years were tidy and ready for class.

The sight made him fidget self-consciously, having never taken such care with his own appearance. After years of wearing Dudley's slovenly rejects, he was used to just taking his clothes out and putting them on regardless to how they looked. It wasn't just him, however, none of the 6th year Gryffindor boys made a big deal about their clothes. Except Neville, he realized with a frown. Quiet Neville that no one had really paid much attention to until last year during DA meetings or when he was blowing up his caldron during potions class.

After a brief nod by the male 7th year prefect, they were seated and he began reciting the same blessing Harry had read in the night before.

_Thank you for the light of a new day begun_

_I now partake of the Divine and share with my kin_

_May it lead to health, strength and love_

_In these gifts we partake_

_As I will it_

_So mote it be_

The food appeared moments after he was finished and the atmosphere around the table relaxed as everyone began eating and talking.

Gradually over the next hour, the other houses filed in beginning with Ravenclaws then Hufflepuffs and usually in groups. Most were neatly groomed as well but only a few paused before eating signaling perhaps they were performing the same blessing. When Luna arrived she gave him a quick smile before sitting. Her lips moved slowly enough for him to know she was reciting the same words as the Slytherins earlier but that she also knew he was watching. It had stopped surprising him how Luna just seemed to know what he was thinking. He just shrugged and accepted.

Gryffindors began rushing in halfway through the meal, some harried as though they had just awakened. Many were not as neatly groomed as they could be and very few looked as though they were saying any type of blessing. He did notice Neville had, quietly and discretely, before beginning to eat. It was such a pointed difference and he didn't know how that made him feel exactly. Not that he was envious of Slytherin's almost militant like behavior, though he found he could respect it. It just seemed like his house was missing out on something but he couldn't understand what exactly. The fact that Neville felt he had to do so in secret didn't sit well with Harry at all.

"_Meow."_

Harry frowned at the throaty purr that interrupted his reminiscing. "When did Crookshanks," he muttered grabbing his glasses from the nightstand so he could look for Hermione's cat that occasionally made his way into their room. Usually to antagonize Ron.

Instead curled up at the foot of his bed, looking for all the world as though she belonged there was Blaise Zabini's familiar. "Nefertiti?"

The cat made a sound that was accompanied by an expression that clearly said, _'Well it's about time you noticed I was sitting here. Peasant.'_

"How on earth did you get in here from the dungeons?"

Nefertiti only rolled her eyes and padded forward on the blanket and into his lap. A soft meow and head butt to his fingers indicated she was ready for another rub.

"You're quite demanding for a cat." A small pink tongue swiped quickly across his thumb and he chuckled softly, looking around to be sure his talking hadn't roused anyone. How would he explain Blaise familiar sitting on his bed waiting for him. Ron would be spouting Slytherin conspiracies before he was even fully awake. "Yes your majesty, I'm rubbing, I'm rubbing."

Maybe all magical felines had the ability to sneak about undetected. He did want to know how she made it pass the fat lady without notice. "You had to have spent the entire night up here. Blaise is probably looking for you."

Nefertiti's presence reminded him of the small experiment he had decided to conduct this morning. He glanced over at the front of the dark stained oak armoire where he had hung his uniform the night before. Neville had done the same when no one was watching and Harry figured that's how the house elves knew which uniforms to press for the next morning. The practice was the same in Slytherin, he just didn't know if it were the same in Gryffindor. Sure enough the pants and shirt were clean and neatly pressed, sweater and tie clean and wrinkle free. Hermione would kill him if she thought he was giving the house elves extra work.

"So are you staying with me this morning or must you get back to Blaise?"

Nefertiti actually looked like she was considering his question before giving his hand another nuzzle and jumping off his bed. She paused looking solemnly up at him before meowing softly. "It was nice to see you again as well, your majesty. You're welcome anytime." He grinned as the elegant feline loped off, slipping through the door someone must have left open the night before.

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

"Harry this is the fourth time you've gone ahead to breakfast without us." Hermione and Ron arrived at breakfast twenty minutes after him this morning. Usually he made it back to the dorms after his run for a quick shower and caught his best friends in the common room so they could walk down together.

He was still earlier than the other houses, though the Slytherins had obviously been in the Great Hall for a while. When he walked in Blaise had caught his eye, his gaze still as powerful as Harry remembered from the train. He wondered what the other could possibly be thinking because his demeanor revealed nothing.

Harry stood in the door of trapped momentarily as Blaise lifted a brow and looked him over. The prolonged anticipation had something unrecognizable twisting nervously in his stomach. What had began as an experiment had mutated into something else entirely. Then Blaise's lips curved into a slight approving smile, inclining his head briefly in acknowledgement before moving back to his breakfast.

Tracey and Daphne noticed him next, their reactions very similar to Blaise, though Tracey did give him a small wave of her fingers when no one was looking.

"Harry, are you even listening to me?"

"Breakfast without you," he answered, blinking quickly to focus on what his annoyed best friend was saying. irritation crinkled her nose. She was definitely starting to wonder about what was going on with him.

"So?"

"Yeah, what's with that? We usually head down together." Ron dropped his things on the floor then reached across the table immediately filling his plate.

Harry watched as Ron loaded his plate full of sausage and eggs before adding several slices of bacon and toast. It amazed him how much his friend could eat when he wasn't even trying. Harry was still suffering through the effects of near starvation from this summer, and he had Leo's meal plan to consider so his plate had been considerably lighter with only a couple slices of bacon, two pieces of wheat toast, a poached egg, porridge and a small cup of ambrosia fruit salad. If he tried to eat as much as Ron, it would have him sicking up in the bathroom a while later. The milk had made keeping the small breakfast down a near thing.

None of his friends ever commented on his light meals because they had a pretty good idea why he ate this way at the beginning of the school term after first year when he'd made himself ill after overeating.

"Are you having trouble sleeping, then? Is that why you're coming down early?" Hermione started on her own bowl of porridge after sprinkling a spoonful of berries and cream over it.

"Could at least wait for us in the common room though so at least we'd be able to walk down together." Ron grumbled around a mouthful of bacon. He drank down half a goblet of pumpkin juice before speaking again. "Are you having night mares about, you-know-who?" Ron paused, anxious, looking around as if the madman in question would suddenly appear and curse Ron for even thinking about him.

"I'm fine." And that was the truth. He had slept well; his grief for Sirius wasn't clawing in his chest with a sharp agony that felt never-ending. All things considered, he truly was okay.

"You'll tell Professor Dumbledore if you get any visions from Vol-Voldemort, won't you?"

"There were no visions Hermione, there's nothing to worry about."

"But-"

"I'm fine." He bit the words off harder this time. Merlin, it was only breakfast. Yes, last year was a nightmare but it was only the first week of school, nothing had happened and he wanted to enjoy feeling good while it lasted. There was nothing to tell.

_That's not entirely true, _a soft voice whispered in his head that had nothing to do with his nemesis. He was keeping something from them but it had nothing to do with Voldemort.

"I'm glad it's Thursday. The weekend begins soon and we'll be able to catch up with our work." Hermione smiled. He knew she was trying to keep the peace and he gave her one in return, ready to accept the peace offering. He didn't like arguing with his friends, they had been through so much together already.

"We can't study the entire weekend, 'Mione. I'm sure by tomorrow McGonagall will be ready to hand out the schedule for Quidditch practice, so we can get some flying in on the pitch." Ron seemed to realized what he'd said, "I'm sure now that Umbridge is gone your ban will be revoked Harry."

To be honest, he hadn't thought much about Quidditch, though he did want his broom back. It was a memento of Sirius after all. Whether or not he played Quidditch again wasn't important, he had other things to focus on. He would miss the flying, which was his favorite part of the sport. Maybe he could convince McGonagall to give him his broom back if he promised not to fly while the teams were practicing.

"Since those educational decrees were revoked, I'm sure the same will be done for you Harry," Hermione sympathized.

"That would be bad for Ginny, wouldn't it? After she played seeker all last year and helped Gryffindor win the House Cup. I'm sure she doesn't want to just give up her position."

"Gin's a great seeker, but come on Harry, she has nothing on you. We all know that."

"Yeah, I guess," he murmured. Youngest seeker in a century, another one of his titles he had come to dread. He thought of his three Slytherin traveling companions and wondered if they had made a wager on his return to Quidditch and how much it was worth. It brought a small grin to his face that Hermione instantly noticed.

"So if you're sleeping well, why did you come down so early?"

The girl was like a terrier when after something. "It wasn't a big deal really. I woke up early and decided to come down to eat rather than wake anyone."

After Nefertiti left he went for his run, even extending it past the fifteen minutes to twenty. Then he had showered and dressed, feeling pretty good about his appearance when he looked in the mirror. His hair was still only what could be nicely termed a rat's nest. A clean and well brushed rat's nest yes, but his hair would always look like he had a terminal case of bed head no matter what he did to it.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table in his usual spot, he took a deep breath, clearing his thoughts and trying to center himself as the book suggested. Then he spoke the blessing he spent almost thirty minutes the night before memorizing.

Nothing happened. Nothing unusual anyway. First he wondered if he had done it improperly, seeing as magic was about two-thirds intent and one third action. The book hadn't explained exactly what would happen, only to return after he had performed the blessing for more information. He was prepared to scoff and be happy to go back to sleeping in and heading down to breakfast late with his friends.

That is until his magic finally reacted.

Nothing dramatic, no wild sparks or bright colors. Just warmth unfolding in his stomach that spread gradually through his body. The sensation had him dragging in a quick surprised breath as his magic seemed to shimmer through his pores and the feeling slowly fade away. The effect was stunning nonetheless. He felt aware of his magic pulsating inside his body, connected to it in a way he never had before. Did everyone feel this way? He was both jealous and angry that no one had shown him this side of his magic before. It was a sensation he didn't want to loose.

"You do look different this morning," Hermione stared at him again, as if she did it long enough she would finally decipher the mystery. "Relaxed even. Did you comb your hair differently?"

"How can you tell," Ron swallowed another mouthful of food in a way that made Harry grimace. That had to be painful. It was a wonder Ron didn't choke. "He looks the same as he does every morning."

"Maybe it's just the good night's sleep."

"No, you did change your hair. It looks, neater, I guess. And your clothes, they're different."

"Hell Hermione let it go. So the bloke took a shower this morning. It's not a big deal." Ron's frustration clear, as he glared down at his almost empty plate. It was a very familiar action, one harry recognized from fourth year just before the Tri-Wizard tournament. Jealousy. What on earth did Ron have to be jealous of now?

He wasn't going to stick around and find out though. Let the two of them figure it out. He had fifteen minutes before Charms started and wanted to go to library to check out another book referenced from the Traditions sections in the book Tracey gave him about Ancient and Noble Houses. He remembered Sirius telling him about the House of Black and he wanted to know more.

"I forgot my Charms book for class this morning, so I'll catch up with you guys later in class."


	6. Chapter 6

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Thursday evenings in the Gryffindor common room had become an unacknowledged study session for most of the fifth and sixth year students, this one no exception as the couches and tables were crowded with books and parchment. When Harry came down from his quick shower and change of clothes he had forgotten this fact as all eyes turned in his direction, inquiring as why he hadn't joined them and didn't appear to be either.

"What on earth are you wearing?"

Ron looking harangued by Hermione, who was pointing out information in their Transfiguration text, jumped on his distraction happily to escape his girlfriend's attention. His words were unasked in Neville and Ginny's gazes who were also sitting at the table with them. Rather than head to the portrait, he changed directions to the table in front of the fireplace. Better to satisfy their questions now, than allow Hermione to build up steam.

He had wanted to be comfortable for the night, seeing as for the first time he didn't have homework to finish. He thought he would run over to the library for an hour or so and do a little research before continuing his next chapter of reading of the Curious Half-Blood. Rather than put on some of Dudley's old things, he had grabbed a pair of black sweats and a dark burgundy long sleeved tee. This one was strangely a favorite. Leo had tagged the front with an animated image of a Hungarian horntail similar to the one from the first task. It was his idea of a joke, as the dragon would occasionally be found curled up on his shoulder with its head resting on his bicep. If only the dragon he had faced in the Tournament had been so docile.

The t-shirt was a bit tighter than he was accustomed to but then most of his second hand clothes were too large or stretched out of shape.

"Just some things Leo purchased for me." He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, grimacing at the dampness that still remained. When it dried, it would probably look as if he had received a bad shock. "No big deal."

"Never seen you in anything like that before."

"Those are the type of clothing muggles usually wear when they're exercising Ron. Is that where you're headed?" Hermione had started keeping account of his comings and goings. He appreciated the concern but it was wearing on him more than he might like, considering the secrets he was keeping from them.

"Exercising? Is that why you're getting up so early in the morning Harry?"

He couldn't really blame Neville for asking, he probably thought Ron and Hermione were already privy to this information. "Yes, I've been going for a run at six." He answered carefully, knowing what was coming next and unable to avoid it.

"What are you talking about? I thought you said you were sleeping fine. Why would you be out running so early if you're sleeping okay?" The curtness of Hermione's voice was only overshadowed by her resolve to get answers.

"I am sleeping fine. I told you. I told you it was part of my class 'Mione."

"No, you said the spells were part of your class. You said nothing about exercising." She showed no signs of relenting until she was satisfied. "And why is your Professor purchasing clothes for you Harry?"

"I didn't know he was getting them. He just said that with all the work we would be doing together, that I needed proper attire, that's all. And the exercising is no big deal. Leo said I needed to build up my endurance and running in the mornings would help with that."

"Just who is this Leo character anyway?" Ron decided to voice his own concerns, "He the reason you were doing a Malfoy imitation this morning?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Ginny looked askance at the Malfoy mention.

"He was all dressed up for class, you know. Not like Harry at all."

This was the last thing he wanted to get into. "His name is Leopold Shacklbolt." He raised a brow at them, knowing they would recognize Kingsley's family name from the Order and in the mean time deflect Ron's attention from the other subject."

"Doesn't explain the clothes," Ron muttered, fidgeting in his seat and Harry saw with abrupt clarity the direction of his friend's thoughts.

"You're making big deal out of nothing."

"So is Professor Shacklebolt the only one helping you Harry?"

Ginny's question was probably the worst she could have asked. What to do? Avoid answering, rousing Hermione further or tell his best friend that one of her favorite teachers was instructing in him in her favorite subjects? Why couldn't he have made it out of the common room without garnering attention?

"No, Dumbledore asked Professor Vector-" he didn't even get the opportunity to finish the thought.

"Professor Vector? My Arithmancy instructor? You're not even taking NEWT Arithmancy, Harry, why would you need her help?"

"We haven't been working together much, just talking about magic and how it relates to numerology and ancient runes. Look, I need to get to library before curfew. Septima,"

"Septima!"

He really needed to learn when to keep his mouth shut. "Professor Vector wants me to look up some information for when we meet again on Monday."

"Maybe I can help," Hermione went to stand, Ron glowered and Ginny's expression was anything but friendly but Harry waved her off.

"No, I'm fine. We're not going over things that she normally teaches in class." He fought the urge to grimace when Hermione's eyes brightened like fairy lights. _'Shut up while you're ahead, Potter,'_ the frustrated voice in his head growled. "I'll see you guys later."

He wasn't ashamed to say that he didn't stop his race through the castle until he arrived at his destination. The morning runs were beginning to come to fruition as he was barely out of breath when he yanked open the door. Madam Pince glared in his direction and he looked down at the ground in apology. Having the library Matron angry with you wasn't the brightest idea if he wanted her assistance.

"Good evening Madam Pince," he greeted with a small incline of his head like he remembered reading in the book Tracey had given him. The action seemed to take most of her ire away, as she offered him a similar salutation. "I was hoping you might be able to help me?"

"Professor Vector came by earlier this afternoon and informed me you might be coming by this evening. You'll find these titles near the ancient magic section in the first row of the Restricted Section." She handed him a small slip of parchment with five titles written down. "You are to collect these books only and bring them to the front when you're ready to check them out. Only these five," she emphasized with a glare. "If I _discover_ you've been anywhere else, your library privileges will be suspended until the end of term, are we clear Mr. Potter?"

"Yes ma'am." He wondered why she hadn't just brought the books to the front desk but set the thought aside. Here was the opportunity to glance at some of the other titles in the ancient magic section. He was quite certain Madam Pince knew he would be doing so, she had only told him not to allow him to be found doing it.

He didn't push his luck, given most of the topics in the books he had pulled from the shelves, he barely understood anyway. They were investigating mind magic, including Occlumency and Legilimency which brought back bad memories, and ancient elemental rituals that used Celtic and Norse runes. He didn't know how that pertained to him, or even how it could possibly help him defeat Voldemort but she was the Professor and she had promised to explain after he had done some reading on the subjects on his own.

_FSFSFS_

"That's quite a ritual you're reading there. It involves a level of mental acumen not many wizards ever attain."

Startled, Harry's eyes jerked from the confusing words in front of him only to widen at the dark ones filled with mild amusement. Having Blaise Zabini looking down at him caught him off guard as he had been so captured by what he was reading. It was unsettling to think the Slytherin might have been standing there for some time observing him while Harry was oblivious.

Before this year, he never noticed Blaise. Now, it seemed the boy was always at the edge of his perception. They shared Potions, Charms and Transfiguration together, though he was usually with either Daphne or Tracey. He knew from Hermione that he was also taking NEWT Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.

And what had passed between them this morning, exactly? One moment he had been entering the Hall for breakfast and the next he was staring at Blaise feeling vulnerable and exposed for a reason he had yet to uncover. Maybe Blaise was on his mind so much today because he had started the morning with Nefertiti. But that didn't explain why Blaise's small gesture of approval had meant so much to him at the time. Daphne and Tracey had certainly offered their own measure of support, so what made Blaise's small almost unnoticeable smile so important?

"And how would you know that?" His voice was scratchy from his prolonged silence. "I suppose you're going to tell me you have attained such mental acumen?"

"No. I do however consider Ancient Runes my specialty and plan to attain my Mastery in the field after graduating Hogwarts."

"Doesn't account for reading over my shoulder."

"I couldn't help myself."

The words were delivered so deadpan, Harry couldn't help but laugh. "I thought Slytherins were more cunning than that? Caught spying by a Gryffindor? What will the others say?"

"Perhaps that's all part of my grand plan," he folded arms across his chest, revealing sinewy muscle running through his bare arms. Bare arms that were free of the Dark mark, Harry was happy to note. He was wearing the dark gray shirt and trousers from dinner this evening. The shirt had two buttons open at the neck, missing the dark emerald tie Blaise had been wearing. The sleeves had also been opened and rolled up to his elbow but the relaxed clothing did nothing to deter from the firm strength emanating from his presence.

"And that plan would be?"

"To get you to allow me to see that book," he gestured with a slight incline of his head, his handsome face kindled with pleasure at their bantering. "Considering I know it came from the Restricted Section, and I happen to know you need permission to check it out and you're not in my Ancient Runes class."

Harry looked around the library noting how much time had passed, a lot more than the hour he had been planning to spend. In fact he had about ten more minutes before Madam Pince would be around to escort him out of the library for closing. "You want to see this book? What will you trade me?"

"Information for information," Blaise nodded in agreement. "Is that your Slytherin side showing again Harry?" The way his husky baritone purred over the pronunciation of his name sent a shiver of awareness down his spine. This game they were playing had stepped into unfamiliar territory that he wasn't sure he knew how to participate.

"I-" he broke off, not knowing what to say.

Thankfully Blaise took mercy on him. "What would you like to trade? Your grades in Charms and Transfiguration are probably equal to mine. Your commendation in Defense Against the Dark Arts is the first one issued in twenty years, so you wouldn't need my help there."

"How do you know about that?" It was something not even his best friends knew about, as he hadn't wanted to make a big deal about it.

"Everyone knows Harry; it was in the Daily Prophet. Daphne did warn you, you were a front page staple this summer, remember."

So his friends already knew and said nothing about it? "You could help me with Potions, I'm pants at that."

"Daphne would be a better choice, though if you insisted." Blaise left off the unstated agreement.

"No," he paused wondering if he was going to take this big of a step out on faith. "No you could help me with Ancient Runes. I'm doing some work for a Professor and could use someone to bounce ideas off of. In return, you get to read the book."

"Why aren't you making this arrangement with Granger? I'm sure she would be happy to help, without the quid pro quo."

Because he didn't want to deal with her questions. He wasn't ready to talk with his friends about his private lessons and he could avoid that with Blaise. Because he didn't want to deal with Ron's insecurities, as he wondered why he and Hermione were spending so much time together. So many answers could apply to such a simple question. When the most prominent one was the probably the right one.

He wanted a reason to spend time with Blaise without his friends prying eyes and this would give it to him.

Harry had so many secrets this year; his friends would be hurt and furious when they uncovered them. The bad part of the situation was that he really didn't care. There were lots of things about him and his life weren't aware of. Sure they had some inclining but no confirmation. His life at the Dursleys. The prophecy. The book Tracey gave him. This would just be one more Harry Potter enigma among the rest.

"Because I'm making it with you." His voice was clear and when their eyes met again, Blaise blinked once in utter amazement.

"Done. May I," he gestured to the chair opposite Harry but he shook his head.

"Madam Pince will be ready to close up soon. Why don't we head downstairs, we can find an old classroom to use until curfew."

_FSFSFS_

"So why were you in the library tonight?"

Blaise glanced up at the quiet inquiry still trying to decipher the mystery of the Boy-who-lived. _'Harry,'_ a soft inner voice reprimanded him. The teenager before him wasn't the Gryffindor hero, he was simply Harry, and Blaise had to wonder how many people actually had a chance to see this side of him.

Instead of a classroom, they had found what looked like an old private office situated halfway between the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms, so they wouldn't have far to travel back to their rooms. Harry cast the Scourgify, to get rid of the layers of dust, while he transfigured the old furniture into two small couches and a heavy oak table so they could sit comfortably. There were candles for light that they used sparingly, not wanting to draw attention to the occupied room.

With each flick of his wand, Harry had held most of his attention. Magic writhing and pulsating around them, thick with power and emotion, enough to make his senses swim. Harry had no idea the passion his magic contained or else he wouldn't be so free in sharing it with others. It gathered around Blaise, building in devastating ripples, before flowing over him, a sensual caress. Questioning, seeking, and full of innocence that told him Harry wasn't even doing this consciously. Blaise knew Tracey wanted Harry for their Coven, he would make an excellent match to their circle but being sexually attracted to the Lion wasn't planned at all.

"I was returning books when I saw you and thought I would say hello."

The physical attraction was there, because Harry was quite beautiful, despite his efforts to conceal it. A dark brow rose in contemplation, as Blaise realized, Harry wasn't in his usual attire. He didn't know why it took so long to notice, maybe because he tended to focus on Harry's voice or the intensity of his verdant eyes that his clothing had ceased to matter. Though whoever had given these items had Blaise's gratitude.

Harry wasn't overly tall or very muscular, but he looked hard, lean and sinewy, more than capable of handling himself and the magic he wielded. He especially appreciated the way those fleece pants rode low on Harry's waist. More importantly, the aura of shyness that surrounded him at times was missing. This is what Harry Potter looked like comfortable with himself and it was an appealing image.

"Thought you would sneak a glimpse of my book you mean," Harry smirked, reclining back and resting his hands over his belly. "So, about our arrangement. I need someone to help me learn both Celtic and Norse runes. Preferably in the next month. I need to be able to identify, draw and make sense of them and what they're used for."

"You don't ask for much," he grunted, as what Harry was asking wasn't easy. On top of all the work for their classes? Well it would be a good review for Ancient Runes anyway. "And in return, you'll allow me to see the book."

"I can't let you take it to Slytherin dorms with you but I can give you complete access to it otherwise."

"Copying spells don't work on items from the Restricted Section." He pointed out. It would take him weeks to hand copy it.

"You don't need to hold my hand while we're working. We can meet here; say Tuesdays and Thursdays, around this time. You work on the book and answer any questions I have."

It was a good deal, especially as he wasn't going to convince Harry to allow him to take the book into the dungeons. "Add in every other Saturday and Sunday and we have a deal."

"You want to study on Saturday night?"

"I have no immediate plans in the future, do you?"

"No, not really. Now that Ron and Hermione are together, they tend to spend the evenings together, which is fine. They're a couple; they should spend that time together." Harry qualified.

"And what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I won't be interrupting any intimate plans will I?"

"Is that supposed to be a joke or something?" Harry had stiffened in his seat and was now glaring daggers at him.

"Not at all," he answered, which seemed to appease Harry. "I thought maybe you and the youngest Weasley would be sharing time together now that she is no longer involved with Thomas." It had hit the Hogwarts gossip on Monday that the Gryffindor couple had split. Rumor had it Thomas was angry that she was spending too much time in the company of a certain Boy-Who-Lived and considering Weasley's affection for the leader of their pride, no one was surprised.

"Ginny? But Hermione said she was over that crush last year." It sounded like this information was the last thing Harry wanted to possess. "I don't," he paused, looking almost panicked, "I don't think of Ginny that way. She's like Hermione, like family. I can't-"

"And you're taking this too hard, Harry." Blaise pointed out with a small smile. "Blame this on me actually. I was curious and could have asked the question better."

"Curious about me and Ginny? Why?"

Blaise knew Harry wasn't ready to hear the answer to that question. If he would ever be. It was one thing befriending a Slytherin, offering an exchange of knowledge in truce. Those things were without risk. It was something else entirely to allow Harry Potter to know all the things he contemplating doing to his very seductive mouth.

"Ask me again sometime, perhaps I'll explain."


	7. Chapter 7

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.

**

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**Chapter Seven**

The pale golden candlelight swayed and mocked at the ragged shadows created by the different cracks and jagged edges of the granite walls. No amount of charms could rid the air of the salty tang of the ocean which lay just on the other side of the fortress.

His fortress.

Its magnificence barely worthy of him but as this bastion had been created by his hand and his magic, nothing more was worthy to be used as the stronghold for his Death Eaters. Here his plans would take shape, just as his wand had carved into the side of this cliff. Here he would sculpt and mold the Wizarding world until it fit the image of his demands. This fortification would satisfy until he had the power of Hogwarts and it's convergence of magic at his command.

He looked out amongst his faithful, finally recovered from the unexpected blow his adversary had dealt him. More than two hundred marked and ready to serve, to bring about a new world free from the filth of dirty blood and pathetic muggles who had not the sense to bow before their betters. Alliances formed each day as his emissaries brought word of the Darker forces of the Wizarding world, the giants and werewolves, even the lesser clans of vampires who were ready to take back what should be rightful theirs.

Too many of his devout were captured by the ministry, imprisoned in Azkaban. Let this be their punishment for failing at his given task. He would remove them when he called his dementors to his side and they would understand Lord Voldemort did not absolve failure without due consequence.

Despite his renewal there was doubt and dissention amongst his ranks. Legilimency wasn't required to see those who were weak and unfaithful to his cause. They wondered how one such as the Potter brat had wounded him.

'There is your example,' the thought materialized as his gaze caught the bowed form of a Death Eater in the third row. Effortlessly, he delved into the coward's inner thoughts. The power sent a thrill of arousal down his spine. It was there, all bared and vulnerable before him.

_Cold sweat trailed down his back, as the hands that scrapped for surface in the dirt trembled violently. How had he allowed Cornelius to convince him being a Death Eater would bring him power? The Dark Lord wasn't right. He wasn't human. _

_He couldn't breathe, dear Merlin, the stench and revulsion it made his flesh crawl. Dark tendrils of magic seemed to be creeping up his chest to wrap around his throat. Choking him. _

_His fear brought forth violent tremors that he couldn't control, any moment he feared the release of his bowels as all of his instincts revolted, shot through with a jolt of magic that demanded he save himself. Run. Run. __**Run**__._

_What was beneath that black robe was no wizard. No man. It was evil. Pure and untainted evil and dear Merlin what would be released on the Wizarding world. Nothing could stop it. The depths of hatred and malice tried to invade his pores. Those bowed near the front could only be insane. How could they stand to be so near it?_

_And they thought Potter could save them all. Potter? A mere boy to fight this malevolence? They were doomed._

Malevolence. Yes, he liked that description. He who was death personified. He who possessed magic and power they could never fathom. The very power which brought them to their knees before him, which they clung to like spoiled children, sycophants whose desires he could manipulate for his own whims.

"Giblin," his voice emerged the darkest of purrs. From the edge of his perception he could see Bella almost writhing with pleasure. Yes, she, with the blackest of hearts and magic knew his intentions well. Azkaban might have splintered the last of her sanity, evidenced by the way she giggled like a mad child, but her wand and her devotion was absolute.

"Yes my Lord." The answered trembled, his horror so vibrant and fervent he would have savored the purity of its essence had it come from one other than his Death Eaters who were supposed to be strong. Fear him, yes, for he was their Lord and their fear was his due. Weakness was not to be tolerated.

"Have you something you wish to share with your brothers and sisters this evening, Giblin?"

He knew the weakling was confused. "No my Lord."

"Ah, but I have heard your thoughts Giblin, your doubts of my greatness. You wonder if the Potter boy will destroy your Lord."

"No, please," the whimper brought a chuckle forth that was cold enough to freeze the air. "I never, doubted my Lord. Never."

"Are you lying to your Lord, Giblin?"

"He doubts you my Lord," Bella shrieked and cackled one right after the other. "Thinks that boy Potter could ever affect your magnificence."

Though unexpected, He wasn't unaware of the boy's potential. Neither was that fool Dumbledore, he was well done to hide the Potter child from him, prophecy or no. For like called to like and as much as the brave little lion liked to deny, there were more similarities between them than differences.

Perhaps…

But He was not one to dwell on the past. The offer of alliance had been made and turned aside. The boy had made his choices and would have to suffer the consequences.

"_Crucio." _

The unforgivable struck the man with enough force to rip him from his knees and onto his back as he began to scream and thrash about on the ground. Pleasure streaked through His body, even as he pressed more of his magic into the curse. Rather than this weakling of a Death Eater, he imagined his adversary trembling before him screaming and struggling in agony before him.

"Let this be a lesson to you all," he warned in a dark murmur after releasing the curse he had held for more than three minutes. "I am Lord Voldemort. Your loyalty is mine. Your magic is mine. Your life," he paused, twisting his wand in the barest of movements. _"Avada Kedavra."_ The green light burst free of his wand, ripping the life-force from Giblin before he even knew what was happening as his mind had long since broken under the force of the Cruciatus.

"Your life is mine."

_FSFSFS_

Neville Longbottom wasn't a smart man. Not in the way his girlfriend Luna was. Many people underestimated his Luna, forgetting the sorting hat placed her within Ravenclaw for a reason. He wasn't exactly brave, though he would faithfully stand beside his family and friends and defend them with his life. As the Gryffindor who often destroyed cauldrons and was terrified of Professor Snape, he could be considered neither unique nor remarkable. Not like his friend Harry Potter. Or at least these were the things he would say if asked to describe himself.

The very understanding he found for Luna Lovegood, should probably be applied to himself, as the sorting hat deemed Neville a Gryffindor for a reason as well. His bravery wasn't like Harry's, as he hadn't been forced onto a path most normal teenage boys would have fallen from long ago. Ron was a perfect example. He was Harry's best friend and had participated in most of his adventures during their years at Hogwarts. Ron came from a strong, loving family, had good friends, was a talented wizard with a pretty girlfriend and still was found wanting.

No Neville Longbottom's bravery was quiet, unassuming, knowing when to take a stand and always loyal to his friends. It was the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom dictum, _Verus et fidelis simper_. True and faithful ever.

That loyalty was sorely tested that Sunday morning when he was awakened by his friend's screaming.

"Damn, I thought he was done with these," he heard Ron mutter as he climbed from bed to make his way over to Harry. Dean and Seamus weren't too far behind, as no one could sleep through the horrible sounds Harry was making in his sleep.

"What's wrong with him," Seamus had moved closer to his best friend, both more than shaken by the image of Harry thrashing around on his bed in what looked to be the worst pain imaginable. "Why is he acting this way?"

"You remember the dreams," Dean murmured softly, "Like last year."

A part of himself, held aside watching almost clinically, could have smiled at the way the two held onto each other after Dean's sentence. Harry released a particularly loud shriek and the jagged scar that made him famous seemed to split open and seep down the front of Harry's face in a macabre of gore and blood.

"Get a cold towel Ron to put on his head," Neville demanded, galvanized into action as he moved to the side of Harry's bed. "Dean, Seamus, you hold his legs down so he doesn't hurt himself."

He grabbed Harry's chest and shoulders, trying to hold his struggling body down as Ron raced back in to hold the towel to the bleeding scar. Instantly Harry moaned, his head moving from side to side before coming to rest as his chest heaved with each breath he labored to drag in.

"I think it's over," Ron whispered, the freckles on his face bold and pronounced against his pale skin.

"_Let this be a lesson to you all."_

Neville looked down, "Harry?" It wasn't his friend's voice. No, there in the depths of that green gaze was the presence of evil that Harry faced down every year. How had he fought so long and so hard against something so terrible.

"_I am Lord Voldemort. Your loyalty is mine. Your magic is mine. Your life,"_ Harry paused and by this time, Dean and Seamus had shied away from the bed. Ron stood wide eyed at his side, hands crushing the towel in a panicked grip. One of Harry's hands raised slowly, a cruel smirk touching his mouth just as his hand performed the barest of movements and brought forth words Neville thought he would never hear from his friend's mouth.

"_Avada Kedavra."_

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted, jumping backward as he must have felt the same swell of magic he had. Without a wand, the spell had no way to release and the dark magic settled around Harry as he let out a long audible breath.

"_Your life is mine."_

That sickening voice finished and the presence left Harry completely as he came abruptly awake and began weeping.

Neville looked to Ron, expecting him to do something for Harry, offer some form of comfort for the horror their fellow lion had just experienced but he did nothing but stare down at Harry in a mixture of dread and fear. Though Dean and Seamus' expressions was similar, there was one thing present missing in Ron's.

Compassion.

"It's okay Harry," Neville murmured, disgusted with Ron for allowing Harry to go through that alone. He touched a trembling hand to Harry's head, feeling him stiffen.

"No," he cried, his voice strained and cracked around the word as he tried to squirm away from Neville's attentions. "No, don't touch me, don't, don't," Harry's voice trailed off as his hysteria grew.

"it's okay Harry," Neville reaffirmed more strongly this time, sitting down on the edge of the bed so he could wrap his arms around the trembling teen. "I'm here Harry. It's over now. You're not alone. Harry."

Those few words seemed all Harry could bear. He covered his face with trembling hands, despair and agony filling the air, as he gave vent to the bitter sobs that wracked his slim body.

It was a moment of epiphany for Neville. Before now, talk of Voldemort and Death Eaters had seemed like something happening to someone else and not affecting him. Yes, his life had been destroyed by Death Eaters the night they took his parents from him but still he hadn't connected to what was coming the way Harry had. Not even their trip in the Department of Mysteries had brought home that truth. It was here, watching probably the strongest person he knew fall apart where Neville realized the War that lay ahead.

It became, _genuine_, because although he knew Harry had fallen, he would pull himself back together to stand again against you-know…no, against Vol, Voldemort, Neville amended though the terror of even speaking that name was enough to tighten a knot in his chest. Harry would stand and as his friend, as a Longbottom how could he do anything less than be there at his side.

His honor and the old ways demanded nothing less.

_**FSFSFS**_

"_This is an infirmary, Professor Snape, and I will not have you upsetting my patients. When Mr. Potter awakens, I'm sure you and the Headmaster will have plenty of opportunity to speak with him."_

As he dragged himself from the comforting grip of oblivion, Harry had to wonder if Madam Pomfrey actually thought she would be able to deter Dumbledore when he was determined. Her voice was a mixture of annoyance and consideration. It always surprised him how she managed to make a whisper hold such a level of rebuke. Unfortunately, he knew the Headmaster wanted information and would rennervate him personally to get it if necessary.

Someone would have gone to Dumbledore even as they were rushing him to the infirmary for treatment. The vivid images of the nightmare wouldn't leave him as he watched Voldemort torture one of his Death Eaters over and over. The worst part had been the madman's enjoyment, the arousal, he felt inflicting such torment. When Harry had cast the cruciatus curse at Bellatrix, she had laughed at him, said he had needed to want it to hurt someone and he couldn't believe himself capable of such an act.

Now he knew. His magic now knew the depths of the unforgiveable and it made him sick to the stomach to have shared those emotions with Voldemort. The remains of the dark magic of the killing curse felt fetid and dank against his skin. Inside of him. There was no way to explain the revulsion he felt, as his own magic was used against him in such a way. The worst of ways.

"I'm awake, Madam Pomfrey," he murmured, halting the arguing voices as their attentions were immediately drawn to him.

"Ah, Harry, it's good that you're awake. How are you feeling, my boy."

"I've been better." Just how did the man think he felt? His head felt like someone was trying to cleave it open with an axe and the light brought white flashes behind his eyes making him feel as though he would vomit at any moment.

"Here Mr. Potter, let me help you to sit up so you can swallow this." A moment later, the bed had lifted to an incline. "It's a mild pain relieving potion, though I hesitate in giving you one, as the other shouldn't have worn off just yet. " A few seconds later and Harry felt as close to normal as he ever would after one of those nightmares.

"Thank you Madam Pomfrey." This time when he tried to open his eyes, they no longer felt as though they were being stabbed with thousand of sharp knives.

"Yes, Poppy, perhaps you can give us a few moments alone with Mr. Potter. Only a few, as he needs his rest after such an ordeal."

Harry didn't need to see Snape's face or hear the grunt of disapproval to know the man had no sympathy towards him at all. He didn't even understand why Snape was there in the first place. If only to enjoy his pain and wish his father was the one bearing it instead. There wasn't much trust between him and potions master regardless of Dumbledore's opinion of the man.

"Perhaps if we're done coddling the boy, we can begin questioning him about the Dark Lord's intentions and what he may or may not have seen tonight?"

"Can you be any bigger an arsehole?" Harry mutter, but not softly enough as he caught the sounds of Madam Pomfrey's amusement as she walked away.

"20 points from Gryffindor, Potter and detention tomorrow at 8 for disrespecting a Hogwarts Professor."

Harry tilted his head just in time to catch the nasty smirk on Snape's face. "Was it good for you too?" He couldn't resist asking.

"Of all the-" the man's smarmy face reddened in fury as he took a step forward.

"That's enough Severus." Dumbledore interrupted the coming tirade, "And you as well Harry. I think its time to place petty differences in the past where they belong."

"Of course, sir," Snape answered, though his dark eyes were promising retribution the next day when the Headmaster wasn't around to protect him.

"So, Harry, can you tell us about your nightmare this evening?"

"It's nothing special. Evidently Voldemort was injured during the fight at the Ministry but he's better now. I mean really well. It felt like his magic was stronger than normal."

"That would fall in line with the potions he's had you brewing him, Severus." Dumbledore looked toward the Professor and nodded as information was exchanged Harry wasn't privy to.

"I guess I should thank you for this then?"

He knew Snape was a spy, but that didn't stop his abhorrence of the man. In order to become a spy, Snape had to have been a Death Eater in the beginning. He didn't get the dark mark by _pretending_ to hate muggle-borns and _thinking_ about murdering muggles. Snape had to actually lift his wand and taint his magic. Those actions weren't easy to forget, he felt like they would always be with him and he wasn't the one actually committing those heinous acts.

"If you hadn't been such an impetuous, meddlesome brat, who believed his behavior beyond reproach, you wouldn't still be suffering from these incidents as you would know how to sufficiently occlude your mind from the Dark Lord."

"You're saying it's my fault your teaching leaves much to be desired?" His sneer was a mirror of the one Snape wore. "Clear your mind, Potter. Clear your mind, Potter. Isn't that what you kept screaming at me before pointing your wand at me and ripping my head open?"

"Is it my fault you didn't take the initiative to research more upon the intricacies of Occlumency. Hogwarts has a perfectly sufficient library in which her students are welcome to take advantage of."

"No, it's your fault for being a despicable bastard who actually enjoyed hurting me," he sat foward on the bed, hands fisted and ready to attack.

"Enough!"

Dumbledore's voice though quiet had an ominous command to it that forbade any dissention. "The two of you are behaving like small children. Harry if you wish to be treated as an adult you must behave as one. And Severus, I'm very disappointed in your actions this evening. We're here for very important information, not to antagonize Harry."

"And of course you shall take the Golden Boy's side," Snape's coolly impersonal tone couldn't hide the bitter edge in his words.

"Hn," Harry denied in a nasty tone, "And if you believe that, I have to wonder at your sanity."

"You were telling us about Voldemort, Harry." Harry noted that Dumbledore didn't exactly deny Harry's accusations either.

"Yes, he's better, stronger and mad as hell. I think that sums Voldemort up nicely, don't you?"

"Potter, we don't have time for your childish temper tantrums."

"Did you discover why he's angry?"Dumbledore, sighed in a dull troubled voice. Part of Harry felt bad for being such a prat but he was the one in the infirmary bed feeling corrupted and defiled due to visions from a madman, would it be so difficult for either of them to show some consideration to his true feelings and not just the pretense.

"He was angry with the other Death Eaters for getting captured at the Ministry. He plans to leave them in there for the time being until he calls the dementors to service. He's made some alliances and he killed a follower to set an example just incase there were any ready to turn traitor. I don't even believe he knew I was present during all of this."

He recalled some of Voldemort's inner thoughts. The man though evil had actually sounded like he respected Harry in his own bizarre fashion. It didn't mean he wouldn't hesitate to kill Harry if the opportunity presented itself but more as if he appreciated a worthy adversary before slaughtering him and taking dominion of the Wizarding world.

"Thank you my boy. I know this isn't easy for you." Dumbledore patted his shoulder and Harry had to resist the urge to flinch away from the contact. "I believe it would be in your best interests to resume your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape."

"Not happening," Harry spat out.

"I object, I refuse to instruct this arrogant officious boy anymore than necessary. I already consented to his presence in a potions class that he did not qualify for. I will not waste more of my valuable time on this boy!"

"I must insist, Severus. It is for the best to block Voldemort's invasions of Harry's mind."

The argument went on for some time and harry could see Dumbledore actually wearing Snape down until the snarky git would eventually agree. "I think you're both missing the point." He interrupted, with no vestige of understanding in its hardness. "I'm not taking the lessons and there is nothing either of you can do to convince me otherwise."

"Harry, really I must not take no for an answer. It's for your own good."

"you can insist all you like but you can't make me do this. So I suggest we drop the subject all together."

"And what about the Dark Lord's ability to enter your mind anytime he wishes? Or are you simply going to get someone else killed."

"Get out."

Snape's sneer faltered for a second at the harsh order, before intensifying, "Just like your father. Always believing you deserve special treatment, that you're above the rules and regulations set down for everyone else."

"I said get out! I have to listen to you in class. I have to listen to you as a Professor here at Hogwarts but I bloody well don't have to listen to you mock my godfather's death and disparage my father. Get the Hell away from me!"

"Potter-"

"Harry please."

He turned a gaze so cold and savage on Dumbledore then, the Headmaster took a step away. All the anger and rage he had tried to contain broke free from the already shaky restraints. The emotions from last year, spending the summer locked away and this last nightmare were the limit to his _understanding_.

"You want me on the front line like a good little solider to kill your Dark Lord? Then get him the fuck away from me."

_**FSFSFS**_

It wasn't planned for him to spend the last day of his weekend trapped in the infirmary, and it was a near thing. Madam Pomfrey had to treat a Hufflepuff second year who was a victim of one of the twins 'Wheezes' giving him the opportunity to slip away without notice. There wasn't much she could do for him anyway and had planned to release him for dinner later that evening anyway a few hours earlier wouldn't cause much harm.

He had plans for the remainder of the afternoon that needed to be taken care of before Thursday.

Rather than close himself up in the castle, he would take advantage of the nice afternoon. After gathering his materials from the Gryffindor tower, and collecting Hedwig, he found a nice spot in front of the lake to work. He transfigured a large rock into a flat surface he could write on and pulled out the special parchment and quill he ordered for this purpose.

"Alright girl, you enjoy yourself." The snowy white owl sitting on his shoulder, nipped lightly at his ear before taking to the sky for an afternoon of flying.

A quick nip down to the kitchens had rewarded him with a thermos of warm cider and two large apple walnut muffins left over from lunch. He didn't think Leo would be upset by this small snack. So he spread out the large blanket he brought with him and sat down for a few minutes of watching Hedwig fly, missing his broom like crazy and wishing he could be up in the sky instead of down on the ground watching.

It didn't escape him that most people spent afternoons like this with a significant other. Ron and Hermione were probably tucked away somewhere enjoying the quiet time. Even Neville was dating, as Harry had found his fellow Gryffindor and Luna Lovegood holding hands on their way to the greenhouse. At the direction his life was heading, his quiet times would probably always be spent alone. No one would want to risk dating him with Voldemort waiting to kill him. The best he could do would be to enjoy the little moments while he could. This was the reason this party was so important to him.

He had been reading in The Curious Half-Blood when he came across the coming of age celebration and thought it would be nice to arrange one for Hermione and her 17th birthday. It was simple to arrange the food with the house elves, they were eager to provide the refreshments for such an important occasion. Even if Hermione wasn't exactly their favorite witch due to her SPEW efforts. The Room of Requirement would provide decorations so he just needed to make invitations and send them out on Monday so everyone would have time to let him know if they could attend.

Ron hadn't made any plans for her when he asked, so Harry thought it great idea to give this to Hermione. The book had said typically a family member would host the gathering but as Hermione's parents were muggles, there was no way for them to even perform the opening ceremony or the other blessings involved as they required magic. He thought of Hermione like a sister, and she was one of his best friends, so it would probably be acceptable for him to host the gathering for her. It would be a nice way for all of their friends could get together to celebrate her birthday.

At the very least it would take him mind off the month of detentions he received for cursing out Professor Dumbledore.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I want to thank everyone for reviewing, I haven't had a chance to answer all of them yet but I really do appreciate them. It's very inspiring to know my story is being enjoyed so far. **

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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**Chapter Eight**

Draco Malfoy swaggered into the Slytherin common room Monday afternoon with a smirk on his face that immediately put every single student within visual distance on guard. Not much had changed about the Slytherin during his tenure at Hogwarts. Rather than mercilessly slicked back, his hair was parted at the side and sculpted to neatly frame his face. He was still pale, his features remained somewhat angular and he dressed with the utmost care as befitted his station.

Crabbe and Goyle remained ever faithful in their place two steps behind him like the well trained pets they were. Parkinson now clung like a limpet to his arm as she evidently claimed her life's ambition as Malfoy's significant other.

Sometimes blood remained ever true, Blaise mused, as he held back a sigh displeasure.

He found the four of them amusing, really. The perfect caricature of Slytherin, as none of them exhibited the true characteristics of their house. Cunning was a trait Malfoy had yet to become acquainted with, as his actions were as apparent as the sneer on his face. The two thugs' life's ambition was to be seen and not heard and between them held the knowledge of a third year, using their connections to drift through school until they took up their Death Eater masks. And like her mother, Parkinson had terrorized the girls of Slytherin who even dared glance in Malfoy's direction more than twice.

They held the old ways in contempt, making a pretense of following them as was the tradition of Slytherin house. Preferring instead to practice the darkest of magic in preparation of their lives in support of the same Dark Lord who threatened the very existence of the Wizarding world every time his Death Eaters went out into the muggle world.

How could he take Malfoy seriously when his every thought, every gesture was a pale imitation of his father? When every word from his spiteful mouth typically began with 'My Father' or 'The Dark Lord'?

"Potter's finally cracked."

The blond stopped in the center of the common room to make his announcement. Practically preened with joy. "I guess knowing the Dark Lord was gong to destroy him and his blood traitor and mudblood friends was more pressure than the pathetic half-blood could handle."

"They said he was carried into the infirmary crying like a baby," Parkinson giggled cruelly even as she looked to her boyfriend for approval.

"I heard from a Ravenclaw who was studying in the library that Potter snapped and tried to hex Professor Snape. Said he lost Gryffindor a hundred points and received three months of detention." A brave fourth year spoke up from his seat by a bookcase where he sat with three others studying.

Malfoy didn't' look pleased to have his spotlight stolen and definitely not by a younger student but it was too late. The gossip line in Slytherin had commenced and would only continue to gain momentum.

"I heard two Hufflepuffs saying when he was brought into the infirmary; Potter was covered in blood from where he had tried to kill himself." A blonde third year grinned and practically vibrated in her seat, so eager was she to be able to contribute. Conduct very unbecoming of a Slytherin to _show_ her enjoyment.

"There was a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff in the Great Hall at lunch that said Potter tried to hex his friends and that's the reason he was covered in blood." A second year tried to contribute, "But then Dumbledore caught stopped him and Potter tried to attack the Headmaster and had to be tied in restraints in the infirmary and drugged."

Gossip by the time it reached the ears of Slytherin common room was usually so distorted and far-fetched that it took years of practice in deciphering each layer until some accurate pieces of the truth could be found.

Harry was definitely in the infirmary recently, the reason was subjective as Harry had made the treatment center a mainstay due to the injuries he acquired over the years. Professor Snape and Harry were in an altercation at some point. Detention was a given as were the usual loss of house points. This was nothing new. Snape punishing Harry for some reason, valid or otherwise, was as dependable as sunrise. And usually a way to make a few galleons before Hogsmeade weekend.

The blood was a cause for concern because it had been mentioned more than once but Harry was in classes all day so it must not have been serious.

"It almost seems a waste now to kill him," Malfoy had to speak up over the rising voice level to regain the attention he had lost so he could begin pontificating again.

"The Dark Lord has plans for Pothead and I plan to be there when he's begging at our Lord's feet begging for his life."

From the very first time Harry rejected Malfoy, the boy had become obsessed with _'getting Potter.'_ From trying to hurt his feelings by insulting his friends and his deceased parents to trying to get Harry in trouble and sabotaging his potions in class, Malfoy tried every thing possible and usually failed.

"Such a child," Blaise murmured, standing from his seat in the shadows by the fireplace and started making his way toward the entrance. Perhaps if fortune deemed him worthy, he might catch Harry before he went to serve his detention. It would be nice to speak to him again, as he had enjoyed being with the Gryffindor the other evening.

"Did you say something Zabini?"

Not satisfied with the attention his announcement had garnered, Malfoy had resorted to his usual, attacking students to reassert his dominance. Usually the boy had sense to avoid throwing barbs in his direction but seemed to think he needed something dramatic to get his point across.

"Of course he didn't Draco, Zabini knows better." Parkinson drawled, making certain she was loud enough to draw everyone's attention to the altercation. "He knows his place." This made Crabbe and Goyle start chuckling like the performing animals they were.

"Yes, the Zabini family has been _neutral_ for years, Pansy." Draco made it obvious what he thought of the word neutral. "Though, I really don't see what his family could do for the Dark Lord. Other than money of course, magically they're as weak as Potter."

That brought a small smirk to his face before he could stop it. A comparison to Harry wasn't a bad thing in his opinion. It was too bad Malfoy was too ignorant to know otherwise.

"Of course if the Dark Lord needed to kill off the blood traitors, he could always try marrying them off to the _'black widow.'_ That would get the job done, wouldn't it Zabini."

Hearing that moniker come from Parkinson of all people brought forth a rage he could barely control. It wanted to strike out, to take revenge for what that damned family had done to his mother. Hardening his heart, he turned a gaze of cold fury and watched the witch flinch and burrow closer to Malfoy as if that would protect her should he choose to act.

"You would do well to keep my name from your lips."

The room was still now, perched on the edge of anticipation as a confrontation never witnessed began to unfold. He silently cursed Malfoy for drawing this attention. This was not his way but perhaps had been years in the making. Normally he would have ignored Malfoy and continued on with his business but no one, _no one_, disrespected his mother.

"What was that Zabini? I didn't quite hear you all the way over there." Malfoy's sneer daring him to step into the Slytherin political arena he had avoided for years. The hierarchy was well established and Malfoy had no fear.

Slowly he turned, tilting his head to the side as he looked the wizard over. Pansy gasped and paled at the icy disdain he aimed in their direction. Afraid, she released her grip on Malfoy's arm and took refuge behind him with Crabbe and Goyle.

"I said," he began slowly enunciating each word so there would be no mistaking his warning this time. "You would do well to keep my name from your lips. Malfoy."

Whispers broke out then, from the corner of his eye he saw the first and second years slowly edging their way out of the path of the confrontation. Astoria, Daphne's younger sister, was in the room and carefully rose from her seat heading toward the girls' dorms, telling him that Daph and Tracey were upstairs and would soon be joining them.

"So you're taking up for Potter now? Against our Lord. That would be rather foolish don't you think? A Slytherin taking the side of a Gryffindor. You know the rules of our house Zabini, where your loyalties should lie."

"My loyalties are my own, as they have always been. As the Zabinis always will be. I'm not surprised you wouldn't understand the difference as the smaller, more intricate, aspects of Slytherin cunning seem to escape you."

"What did you say?"

"I believe you understood me quite well, daddy's boy."

"Crabbe, Goyle-"

"Why don't you come over here instead Malfoy? I might be able to respect you more without you hiding behind your pet boarhounds."

Malfoy took two quick furtive glances around, realizing their altercation was going in a direction he didn't like. The sneer on his face grew uglier as he stalked across the space toward, his wand already gripped in his hand and a curse on his lips.

Three moves, he thought carefully. Malfoy would be capable in a dual. His father would ensure that as the son's place would be as a Death Eater and the Dark Lord would not tolerate incompetency. Blaise's mind was already working the scenario, seeing each advancement as it progressed and what could counter.

The Zabini's might be neutral but by no means were they weak. His grandfather had pounded that lesson into his mind and body from the moment he turned eight years old.

"_Confringo."_

But before Malfoy had finished the word Zabini was moving.

_Right leg sweep_, he performed without thought as his left arm was shoving Malfoy's wand arm to the side so that his curse went wide. _Right jab, left hook combination, _the physical brutality surprising the teen and he had the pleasure of feeling bone crunch beneath his fist. The force of the punches did their job, sending Malfoy crashing back to the floor. _Athame_, the ritual dagger he carried in a holster on his left arm at all times was in his hand as he lowered to one knee over the boy. The blade pressed into his throat, even as Malfoy's head bounced off the floor.

"_Incendia vesica," _he murmured as a smirk of his own curled his upper lip. Carefully he poured his magic into the spell. The blade slowly began to turn golden red as he halted shy of actual flame.

"Stop it. Stop it!" Malfoy's panicking voice grew louder with each protest as his skin began to sizzle.

"I thought you wanted to play?"

"My father-"

"Isn't here right now and your throat would be slit and with your life blood draining on the floor before he was even told of your stupidity." Blaise pointed out.

"When the Dark Lord-"

"There is a reason the Dark Lord respects my family's neutrality, daddy's boy. You would do well not to speak of things which you have no knowledge of. Malfoy."

"Blaise are you torturing Malfoy? What did we tell you about playing with children?" There was amusement in their voices, but he was certain that Daphne and Tracey already had their wands out, pointed at the rest of Malfoy's cronies. His friends weren't the useless wastes of space Malfoy's were.

"Then the child should stay in his place." Blaise cautioned. "For the next time we'll see if your blood is as pure as you claim, first hand. Are we clear, Malfoy."

The terrified Slytherin nodded once, his eyes leaking tears from the pain his athame caused his throat and the broken nose that was bleeding and discolored. He wouldn't embarrass the boy further, his point was made.

"I'm pleased we could come to an accord."

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

When the door to the bathroom slammed open, it was all Harry could do not to cringe in annoyance because he just knew whatever was wrong was coming in his direction. It would be the perfect ending for the day from hell. He expected the drama from Snape in potions class, not even Hermione had been able to deflect the enormous loss of thirty house points but he hadn't made much of the issue as it would be possible to regain them in DADA later during the day.

Having topped off the edge of his temper Sunday in the infirmary, he was able to ignore Snape's snide comments about his person, though strangely enough Snape's words were regulated only toward him and not any of the dead. Evidently Dumbledore told Leo about his loss of control and the result was having his ass handed to him for two hours, proving just how far he still had to go if he was to ever defeat Voldemort. Yet even that he could handle, as Leo wasn't being malicious, merely proving how important it was for him to remain in control, especially when using his magic.

Professor Vector, Septima, he amended, for the woman had taken to thumping him in the forehead when called her otherwise, was also on his case for his lack of progress in learning the runes she designated. Dumbledore must have been in contact with her, for she had left him with the vague portent of '_having something to deal with those dreams of yours'_ but she needed to do a spot of research first. Whatever it was had to be better than Snape peeling open his head each night and have a go.

Detention wasn't so bad, mindless chores were second nature to him after all his years with the Dursleys and after facing Voldemort, Death Eaters, and even his Uncle Vernon, there wasn't much Filch could say or do that was very frightening. He had already made plans with Neville to transfer their study sessions to Saturday mornings, now he had to find a way to contact Blaise to let him know he wouldn't be able to meet him on Tuesdays and Thursdays as planned unless he was willing to sneak out after curfew.

All he had wanted at the end of such a horrid day was a long shower and a night's rest without interruption or nightmares.

Yes, and if wishes were hippogriffs, arseholes like Malfoy would ride.

"Harry are you in here?"

'Ron', he sighed to himself. What in Merlin's name was wrong now? "I'm in here, just give me a minute." He scrubbed a bit more water from his hair, laying the towel across his shoulders, then wrapped a larger one around his waist making his way to the front of the room.

Ron leaned against a sink, face flushed with anger and clutched in his grip a piece of golden parchment that looked very familiar. "What's the problem?" He asked, placing his glasses back on, so at least he would be able to see while being fussed at.

"This! This is the problem! What is this!"

Dark brows raised as the crumpled parchment was practically shoved in his face. Harry carefully took the paper from his best friend, unrolling it to read.

"In honour of her 17th birthday, the friends of Hermione Jean Granger request the pleasure of your presence to join us in celebration in a Coming of Age Ceremony on September seventeenth nineteen hundred and ninety-six at eight o'clock in the evening. Please tap your wand against parchment to RSVP and receive further directions."

He had written the least formal of the invitation styles suggested in The Curious Half-Blood book, so he wouldn't offend anyone and from what he read, he didn't think that was the cause of Ron's hostility. He also had chosen regular parchment and charmed it with a nice golden sheen and red ribbon, nice and Gryffindor neutral. The edges of the invitation were trimmed with books, 'Mione's favorite things, so that wasn't offensive.

"I don't understand what the problem is?"

"That!" he waved a wild hand, eyes widening with fury. "Why would you do that!"

"Do what?" He asked feeling a bit stupid for not understanding what the problem was. After the day from hell his brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders.

"That party thing! You have to cancel it! Just how many of those bloody things have you sent out anyway?"

"Twenty-Five, I believe. Why do you need me to cancel the party for Hermione? I thought you said you hadn't made any special plans for her birthday, I never would have sent out invitations if I knew you were going to change your mind."

"I haven't made special plans."

"Then what's the problem with the two of us throwing her a party. Isn't turning seventeen in the Wizarding world of some importance?"

"Well, yes," Ron frowned, not pleased with the conversation still.

"So why would you want me to cancel?"

"She's my girlfriend you know!" He shouted, throwing his hands up in the air.

"And I already know that mate, I've had the pleasure of watching the two of you attached to each other's face for the past three weeks now."

"So, I'm supposed to be the one throwing her parties, not you."

"So why didn't you," Harry lifted a shoulder, still not knowing where Ron was going with all this. Then reality slapped in the face rather solidly. "You're angry that I thought of the party instead of you?"

"You know I couldn't afford to do something like this for 'Mione, so how do you think it feels when you come along and do this?"

"The party if from us both, Ron." He was starting to hate these types of conversations with his best friend.

"Yeah but you're paying for it!"

"I'm paying for her gifts! That's it. I asked the house elves if they would donate food, the Room of Requirement will provide decorations and Leo is loaning me his Wizarding wireless for music."

Harry didn't think it possible for Ron to turn a shade redder but he supposed guilt would do that. "You still shouldn't have done it."

"And why not Ron, Hermione is my best friend! Why shouldn't I want to celebrate her birthday with her? This wasn't even about you! You hadn't made plans and I thought of the party first, so I thought it would be nice if _we_, as her best friends, gave her a party. Why must you always make it seem like I'm trying to insult you?"

"I wasn't." Though even he had to realize the lie for what it was. "You didn't even tell me about, just sent out these invitations."

"In case you've forgotten, I was a little busy yesterday, you know with Voldemort in my head. Then Hermione was around and I couldn't tell you in front of her. And after dinner the two of you went off snogging, so how could I? Then there were classes today and detention. Do you see my point here yet?"

"Could have passed me a note during class or something." But they both knew Ron was just making excuses now.

"You didn't even ask me what was going on, you just stormed in here like a rampaging dragon tossing around demands and insults without even considering how I might feel about your behavior."

He looked down at the invitation that he had taken such joy in creating, looking forward to celebrating Hermione's day. Now those emotions tasted like ash in his mouth. It had taken a hell of a lot of convincing on his part to get Dumbledore to even allow him to miss detention that night so he could give this party and now he had a feeling Ron was going to ruin the entire night with his bad attitude.

"You need to grow up, Ron." He frowned, feeling disappointed in his best friend, and tossed the parchment back at him before walking away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

The air so high up in the astronomy tower was crisp and cold, perfect for clearing the remaining anger from Harry's head but it still left him with his thoughts. It was barely the third week of school and yet so much had changed and he wasn't sure what to do with those changes. New professors and learning new things were adjustments he didn't mind as they would help him survive the War.

Being introduced to the traditions of the Wizarding world was even better, finally he was feeling more connected to his magic. Granted there was still so much he didn't know, and only so much he could learn on his own and from the book Tracey had given him but he wasn't quite ready to reach out for help. He didn't know if his reasoning was simply restraint or the way he had grown up. The Dursley's didn't encourage him to seek knowledge or ask questions and there were so many people watching his every move he didn't want to give more fodder for the gossipmongers.

He didn't like the strain between him and his friends or the disappointment whenever he thought of Dumbledore. It seemed like there was a vast distance between them now. Hermione and Ron were dating and he wasn't apart of that, couldn't be. No matter what either of them said, it altered the dynamics of their relationship. There were secrets he wanted to share with them, but he wasn't ready for their reactions. Hermione would want to examine and prod until she could place things into their proper categories that she could understand. Ron would offer his support but there would be a layer of envy and anger beneath the surface that would eventually explode just as he had tonight about Hermione's birthday party.

His trust in Dumbledore was shaken, never before would he have considered yelling at the Headmaster the way he had the other day. He just couldn't tolerate being treated like a child with no opinions or being forced into choices he would never make. Especially when they expected him to be a man in the very next moment and destroy the most powerful Dark Lord in the history of the Wizarding world. Dumbledore couldn't have it both ways and not expect him to protest. As matters stood, the choice was out of his hands regardless, as Voldemort was going to keep coming for him until one of them was dead.

There was no resolution and for the moment all he could do was set the matters to the side and wait to see how the rest of the year would unfold but that didn't mean he wasn't tired of it all.

"_Meow."_

Harry glanced over at the feline greeting and felt a smile curve his lips. "Nefertiti. What are you doing up here this time of night?" He moved his arm so the Mau could climb into his lap. She stretched briefly before settling down, nudging his hand for a rub. "Of course your majesty, I did say you were welcome at any time."

"Does that only apply to Nefertiti, or am I welcome as well?"

Blaise's deep silken tone matched the composed expression on his handsome face. He should have been startled to find himself no longer alone. "You move quietly, I didn't even hear you."

"I think maybe you were very deep in thought," Blaise offered instead, making his way from the staircase to where he sat at the edge of the tower with his feet hanging over the side. "Should I leave you to them?"

"No," he answered immediately, gesturing for Blaise to join him. "I'm probably better off not spending too much time inside my head."

"Inner scrutiny does tend to lead to melancholy." Blaise took his time unbuttoning the bottom of his cloak before joining him. "But this is a good place to come and think. Quiet. Open to the vastness of the night sky. It can leave you feeling rather small in the grand scheme of the universe. Sometimes I need that when I begin to take myself too seriously."

Harry watched him, noting the way the shadows played across the Slytherin's features. The slope of his nose, skin pulled taut over the elegant ridge of his cheekbones, the way he held his head high with pride. He was so different from most of the other boys their age, and that only made him more interesting.

"So, Harry, what brings you up here tonight?"

"I guess I wanted to talk with my godfather," he sighed, looking back up into the sky. "You can't see it from here very well," he paused pointing over the Forbidden Forest in the direction of London to the brightest star in the sky. "The Canis Major constellation and the most brilliant star is Sirius. That was his name, Sirius Black." He managed a small smile in memory, "My godfather's family, the Blacks, they had a habit of naming their children after constellations. He was the best of them all and I suppose that star up there only agrees with me."

"The dog star," Blaise murmured before turning his dark intense gaze to focus on his face.

"I suppose you heard the rumors about him, how he betrayed my parents to Voldemort."

"Harry, most of Slytherin knew the truth of Sirius Black. Malfoy has no concept of the word discretion."

"His father would know, wouldn't he?" Harry spat out, remembering Lucius Malfoy's presence at Voldemort's resurrection, at the Department of Mysteries. "And Malfoy would waste no time preening about knowing a truth concerning anything that would hurt me."

"He does seem to hate you."

"Draco Malfoy has no concept of what true hatred is. He's a spoiled arrogant bully and he annoys the hell out of me."

Blaise quirked his eyebrow questioningly, "So you don't feel the same?"

"In the bigger picture, with everyone who wants to kill me, Malfoy rates up there with a bothersome housefly. You swat those away and move on."

"So what happened to your godfather?"

He couldn't give Blaise all the information about last year, especially not his connection to Voldemort, so he gave him the general idea; being tricked into going to the Ministry, the Death Eaters lying in wait, and Bellatrix firing the curse at Sirius. The veil.

"When he fell into the veil, I wanted to go with him." His voice broke on the words because it was the first time he had actually said them aloud. "In that moment, I didn't care about my friends, the Wizarding world, Voldemort, none of it. In that moment nothing else mattered to me but Sirius slipping away. If I could have grabbed hold of him, I would have followed him and every thing else be damned."

His glaze clouded with the tears he normally would have pushed aside, but this time he didn't bother, feeling them trail down the side of his face. The wild grief that usually ripped through him at the thought of Sirius wasn't so strong but was more like an old would that ached on a rainy day. The cat in his lap seemed to sense his feelings, purring as she rose onto her hind legs to offer a lick against his jaw in sympathy.

A hand came down over his, fingers long and slightly calloused, and he was filled with feelings of warmth and protection that for once he didn't bother to question. He simply accepted.

"I won't insult you by trying to make you believe it's not your fault. I'm sure you've heard that before. No matter how you were manipulated, you'll always feel at least partly responsible."

"I have to live with that," he spoke up after regaining control of his emotions. "The guilt of how it's partly my fault that my godfather died. But I think what's worse sometimes is how I would have simply given up. I wonder if my parents or Sirius would be ashamed."

"My mother would say there is nothing I could ever do that would make her stop loving me. I'm pretty sure most parents feel that way about their children, if they're good parents. Considering your godfather came after you that night regardless of the threat to himself, I think he loved you very much. He would never be ashamed of you Harry."

"It probably sounds strange, that I would give up so much for someone I hadn't known long. We didn't meet again until third year when he escaped Azkaban and then he was on the run from the Ministry most of fourth year. But that's not true. There was something inside of me that remembered Sirius. I don't know if it was a memory or the bond from being my godfather but I recognized Sirius.

"The Weasley's are great and they have done everything to make me feel welcome in their home and a part of their family. But at the end of the day, they're _not_ my family. A part of me always feels like an outsider and it isn't anything they've done, it's just how I feel."

He needed for Blaise to understand because these weren't things he could ever say to Ron or even Hermione. These were private, painful thoughts that would hurt feelings and that was the last thing he wanted to do. But he needed someone to understand and hoped that maybe that person could be Blaise.

"Ron and Hermione don't really understand and I hope they never have to. I can't say they have never experienced death but they don't know what it means to be alone. With Sirius, I felt like I could finally have a family of my own. Maybe even a small piece of my parents because they chose Sirius to take care of me if something should happen to them."

Harry looked from the hands that lay clenched together in his lap, up into dark fathomless eyes, throat aching with despair. "And now that's all gone and some days I don't know how to bear it."

A muscle flicked in Blaise's jaw just as he reached out, his fingers cool as they brushed along the side of his face removing the remaining wetness of his tears. Harry frowned as he couldn't remember anyone ever touching him with such care. Tingling warmth unfolded in the pit of his stomach, becoming familiar, stronger, each time he experienced it. From nowhere came a yearning, it caught in his chest making his heart hammer against his ribs. There was something in Blaise's expression that he just couldn't understand, so disconcerted, he forced himself to look away biting his lip, with nerves.

"I don't know why I'm bothering you with all this."

The hand on his face slipped away but the other in his lap held on for a moment longer before giving a gentle squeeze and moving away. "Maybe because I didn't know him, so there are no expectations. Or because I'm not invested the same way your friends are, so you have no reason to hide your feelings from me."

"Maybe," Harry hedged, because he didn't know if he ever would have shared this with Hermione and Ron. So what made Blaise different?

"You never did say why you needed to talk to Sirius."

Harry gave Blaise a grateful grin, as he needed to set aside his grief again, but this time it was a little easier. Maybe one day he would be able to think of Sirius and only remember the good things and not everything he had lost. "Ron is angry with me because I decided to give Hermione a coming of age ceremony this Thursday."

Blaise couldn't hold back a look of surprise at Harry's words. Harry didn't say a birthday party; he said a coming of age ceremony, which in regards to the old ways meant very different things. He was pleased to hear him say it that way because it meant Harry didn't simply push Tracey's book aside but was reading it. Thinking about the information.

He had thought perhaps Harry was reading the book, given that morning he came down to breakfast looking a great deal neater than his usual appearance. A discrete glance told him after Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table, he had gave the morning blessing. He hadn't wanted to get his hopes up but so far Harry had come down alone early each morning for breakfast in the same manner. It was different from openly practicing the old traditions but it was definitely a step in the right direction.

Now he wanted to perform a coming of age ceremony for Granger. He wondered who all Harry would invite and wished he could be there. The magic released was bound to be stunning to witness.

"I don't believe the Weasleys practice the old ways Harry," he offered tentatively, to see how Harry would react. "So perhaps he doesn't understand and just believes it to be a regular party."

"But it's not the party itself he has a problem with, it's the money involved. It's been an issue with us a lot lately. I thought it was better last year but it can't be if he's this sensitive about me doing this. He can't be worried that I like Hermione because that's just ridiculous, she's like a sister."

"It's difficult coming from a pureblood family without the resources most families have."

"I know the Weasley's aren't exactly wealthy but I just don't understand. He has parents who love him. Brothers and a sister who would walk through fire for him. I would give anything to have a normal life that he has."

"Ron didn't grow up the way you did Harry. You see a loving family, a girlfriend, all the so called normal things you would love to have. Most people want to be anything but normal. For most people normal is boring, they live normal everyday."

"But he knows what my life is like, why would he want that?"

Blaise had to laugh at the incredulous expression on Harry's face. From his point of view is life probably was horrible but an outsider wouldn't see things that way. "You're a pretty hard act to follow. Smart, attractive, famous. Youngest seeker in a century who can do things on a broom that makes most quidditch players envious. Wealthy, powerful. You have the ear of Professor Dumbledore who is notably one of most powerful wizards of our time."

"And I'm an orphan with relatives who hate the very thought of me and I have a madman trying to kill me. The press alternately praise and revile me and the people around me tend to end up in grave danger."

"You can't have the yin without the yang," he shrugged benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child.

Humor bubbled in Harry's vibrant gaze, his laughter buoyant and fully alive as it echoed through the empty tower. It made his already handsome face so much more beautiful, it was all he could do not to slide his fingers along the inviting skin again. This was better than the grief that seemed to squeeze the joy from his heart. The more time he spent with Harry the more he became extremely conscious of his intensifying feelings.

"If only it were so simple. You never did say what brought you out here tonight, its after curfew so you could get detention if you're caught. But I am appreciative of the company."

"Malfoy posturing."

Harry grunted, shifting Nefertiti in his lap before rubbing her again in long graceful strokes across her back that started her loud rumbling purr of pleasure. He never thought he would ever be envious of his familiar.

"What happened? I mean, if you don't mind me asking what happened." He glanced up timidly at him from beneath the long strands of hair that covered his face. It was a strangely appealing look, as it made his mouth slightly pouty and inviting.

"He came into the common room crowing about you. 'Potter's snapped.' You have noticed the whispering about you, I hope."

"They whisper everyday, Blaise. I've learned to ignore it for the most part."

"Mature of you."

"Self interest mostly. There were only so many times my feelings could be hurt before I realized that the only person who can allow them to hurt me, is me. I still don't like it but I can't stop them. I can stop caring what they think."

"That's usually my way of dealing with gossip. My name isn't as popular as yours but there are still those who have no life and are vicious." He couldn't help but think of his mother and how she dealt with the murmurs about her. She had taught him to rise above such pettiness and not let it affect him.

"So what did Malfoy do?"

"And you know it was Malfoy, how?"

"It's always Malfoy," Harry's expression held a note of teasing. "He hasn't been much of a nuisance this year but I figured it was due to his father's imprisonment in Azkaban. I don't trust Malfoy though, so I would be surprised if he's planning something."

"He is obvious isn't he?"

"Yes, no Slytherin cunning there." Harry chuckled unknowingly echoing his thoughts from before his altercation. "So?"

"He insulted my mother."

"One of his more unoriginal moves."

"I know. Obvious, but I don't tolerate insults to my mother or my family. So I kicked his narrow ass."

That brought forth a completely different laughter, devious really, and seductive in a way he doubted Harry would appreciate. Blaise on the other hand, had no problem with a not so pure minded Harry Potter.

"Wish I could have seen it. So, tell me something new about Blaise Zabini." Harry's grin was affectionate and contagious, drawing forth a small answering one. "I know you want to attain your Mastery in Ancient Runes after Hogwarts and I know you enjoyed Italy this summer. I also know you don't mind wagering obscene amounts of galleons."

"What would you like to know Harry?"

"Tell me something about your family."

"My mother and father's marriage was arranged by their parents. It was a very excellent match. We originate from a very small city on the northern coast of Morocco where most of the magical families there can trace their heritage back to the migration from the ancient Berber Kingdom of Numidia. Eventually many of the families relocated to the United Kingdom where we have resided for the past two hundred years. The Fakhir and the Zabini families have been friends for many years, so when it was time for my mother to marry, it made sense for their eldest daughter to marry the eldest son."

"But what about love?" His face clouded with confusion, "It doesn't seem right to force them to marry when they didn't love each other."

"My father wasn't well, Harry. Their marriage was never destined to last longer than the time it took to create me. A Zabini heir. I was very fortunate that my parents were friends who grew to care for each other and my mother cherished my birth."

"I can't imagine marrying someone I didn't love."

"And I can't imagine marrying someone my family didn't approve of. We're not all like the Weasley's." He softened the rebuke with a smile and that seemed to relax the tension in Harry. "My Grandfather took charge of my rearing, as heir to the Zabini house. He is a proud man but loves his family. I learned much from him."

"I don't think I'd know what to do with a family of my own truthfully. I don't want you to think I was casting judgment on your family because of what I said."

"It's fine Harry. Only the more traditional families still hold to betrothal contracts in the Wizarding world. I'm not expected to uphold one. I made that clear to Papa this past year when I turned sixteen. I'm expected to have an heir and I want children of my own but I'm in no hurry to have them. There is plenty of time."

"Time," Harry sighed, "Is probably not on my side. I'm the last Potter; at least that's what Dumbledore told me."

It was an opening he could not allow to pass. "If you're head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, why aren't you wearing your ring?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

No.

No. It just wasn't possible.

Blaise had to be mistaken. There was no way he was the head of; he stopped in the middle of the thought shaking his head in denial. He was sixteen for Merlin's sake; _someone _would have mentioned this by now. His friends. Sirius. Remus. Professor Dumbledore. Hell, even Snape wouldn't have been able to hold a spiteful comment back.

There was only one thought he kept returning to. Why would Blaise lie? Why would he make up such an elaborate lie when it could be so easily confirmed? That simple reason caused a knot of rage and sadness to twist in his chest. How much more would he be expected to endure before it became too much? How many secrets and lies would he be forced to unravel before his life became his own?

_Sirus._ The idea that his godfather had kept something so important from him was inconceivable. Sirius was the one who would try to tell him what was going on before some adult came along and silenced him, claiming Harry too young to know things. Things that concerned him. Things that affected his life.

Damn it! Everyone's good intentions would get him killed.

This was betrayal, plain and simple. For anyone to purposely keep information about his family away from him when he had so precious little remaining of his parents was tantamount to betrayal.

He burst into the Gryffindor boys' dorm, heedless of the noise he was making. As he stalked over to his bed, he tried to think of a way to find out the truth without asking anyone. If he went to Hermione, she would suggest he go right to Dumbledore and the last thing he wanted was to hear the Headmaster say he kept this information from him so that he could have a childhood, or some other such nonsense. Ron's jealousy was approaching an all time high and given his attitude during fourth year that was saying something. His best friend would not handle Ancient and Noble house of Potter discussions at all.

How could he trust a word from their mouths? How could he trust anyone's word ever again?

Gringotts, he reasoned, sitting down on his bed. He closed his eyes, wiping hands that trembled with despair down his face. If Gringotts was in charge of the vault his parents opened for him, surely they would be able to tell him more about his family history. It wasn't about money; he didn't give a damn about money. It was his history. Knowledge that he had been starved for all of his life and it dropped into his lap tonight by mere chance. What if he hadn't asked the questions that lead Blaise to make his statement about the Potter ring? Would he gone on forever ignorant?

The Goblins certainly had no reason t lie and if they didn't have information they would at least be able to confirm if there was an Ancient and Noble House of Potter.

"Why does everything have to happen to me?" he whispered, gripping the tangled strands of his hair and tugging in frustration. How many times would his world be shattered and force him to pull it back together again? "Why can't things be simple for once?"

When he opened his eyes, they fell upon the green book sitting tucked away in his bookcase. Casting a furtive glance around the room, he quickly snatched it out before spelling his curtains closed and casting a locking and silencing charm. He hadn't had the opportunity to search for the information on Sirius and the Black family but this was more important.

"_Lumos_." Pale light illuminated the darkened area before he leaned back against his headboard with the book sitting in his lap.

"If I do this everything changes," he said aloud, needing to hear the confirmation of the step he was contemplating taking. He would always be on guard, wondering who was lying to him and who he could truly trust.

Could he cast this knowledge aside and continue on ignorant of his family to keep the people in his life now? Then he felt shame, for how could even consider casting aside his heritage. His family, for Merlin's sake. Even if he were the only Potter alive, his family still deserved acknowledgement. Hadn't he sacrificed enough for the Wizarding world?

Decision made, he opened the book to the contents page as Tracey explained in her note, and then tapped his wand once. "Ancient and Noble Houses," his voice shook on the last word. As the pages began to turn, he drew in a shaky breath. Upon reaching the middle it stopped, pages blank, before words began to bleed onto the page just like in Riddle's diary.

"Of the original thirteen Ancient and Noble Houses of the United Kingdom's Wizarding world, there remain only four active Lords, two trustees hold titles until heir is appointed and three heirs apparent. The title for the House of Black is still in question, as there are only two scions in line to succession. The other lines are now extinct."

There was more information, most of it he barely understood, such as the seats in Wizagamot that Lords were entitled to but unable to claim until their twenty-first birthday. In most cases, a trustee was designated pending the heir reaches majority.

It seemed the houses of Bones and Greengrass were being held in trust and he wondered how that made Susan and Daphne feel. It seemed unfair they couldn't hold the title simply because they were women. He turned the page and found the listing for the active Lords. It wasn't exactly a surprise to see Malfoy or Lestrange; he expected to see some of the Death Eaters on the list, as Ancient and Noble was synonymous with pure blood. He was surprised to see Ernie MacMillan, though he did tend to brag about his family. It was the next line that made his heart stop.

"Harrigan James Potter. Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, Scion of the Ancient and Noble House of Roarke, Honorable Peer of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

None of this was making sense. "Who the hell am I?"

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

"Good morning Harry. How may I help you today?"

Harry forced himself to take deep breaths remembering the last time he was in this office and how destructive his magic became when he lost control. It wasn't the image he wanted to portray during this confrontation. Pissed off teenager would get him no where. Dumbledore would look at him, the twinklings in his blue eyes diminished slightly, and still treat him like the eleven year old boy who entered Hogwarts starved and abused and desperate to belong.

No, he had every right to be furious.

Dumbledore had promised not to keep things from him any longer. So, had he simply forgotten? He was an old man but Dumbledore had a mind like a steel trap, that excuse would be pathetic and ignoble.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry nodded once, resisting the urge to check his appearance again as he had at the gargoyle before entering. It had been difficult to go about his normal morning routine. Yet he forced himself and was grateful for it. The strenuous exercise had taken the edge off his anger, helping to clear his head so he could think rationally. Dressing in the neat uniform and straightening his hair bolstered his confidence. He might not be Dumbledore's peer but he would demand respect from the man.

"Sir, I found some rather disgruntling information yesterday and I was hoping you might be able to shed light upon the subject."

"Of course, my boy. If I may be of service." He smiled genially, folding his hands atop his desk. Happy that Harry had come to him for help as perhaps a gesture of clemency for their current acrimony. "Now what has you so troubled?"

Reaching into his rucksack, Harry removed the slip of folded parchment where he had written down the titles from the Curious Half-Blood book. He placed it on the desk and pushed it toward Dumbledore without saying a word.

Harry could tell when the Headmaster understood why he was here this morning. The wizard's tells weren't obvious unless you were searching hard enough for a reaction. Wrinkled fingers clenched briefly upon the parchment. Then a frown formed between his brows with lines bracketing his mouth.

"Where did you get this Harry?"

"I don't believe it matters where I obtained the information. What matters is whether or not there is any truth to it and if so, why wasn't I told!"

"Harry."

"Harrigan," he spat, his lip curling with growing annoyance. "I believe that is my name, though I always thought it was Harry. Did you know for the first five years of my life, I had no real idea what my name was? Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always called me boy. _'Boy, pick up that mess.'_ Or,_ 'Boy, go to your cupboard.'_ It wasn't until I was enrolled in school that I found out the name Harry actually belonged to me and not some other boy they knew."

"Harry, I know-"

"You know? You know shite, so please don't insult me that way Professor. If nothing else respect that this is something you _don't_ know."

"Of course. I was simply going to say that I understood your life with your mother's sister was difficult."

"Because most adults are capable of recognizing the signs of abuse," Harry pointed out.

"Did they," Dumbledore paused, probably not knowing if he should continue or if he wanted to know the answer.

"Beat me, you mean?" Harry scoffed. "Other than the occasional swat to the head, or if I really did something to embarrass them, something _freakish_, and earned my self licks from Vernon's belt? They could barely stand to be in the same room with me, why would they take the time to beat me? It would be more attention than they felt I deserved."

"I'm so sorry Harry. I had no idea.

"No, because you stuck me with those people and left me there with no one to check and make sure I had things like food or clothes. Let alone love and affection."

"It was for your protection. The blood wards would keep any remaining Death Eaters who would do you harm away."

"And I have accepted that. What I don't understand is what's on that paper. Why wouldn't you tell me something so important?"

"Sit down Harry."

"I-"

"Please, sit down." The Headmaster's voice was stern and brooked no argument.

He wanted to protest, to demand answers, to refuse to follow any command from this man until he explained himself but that would imply he was still behaving as a child. So he yielded the point to Dumbledore and sat in the chair across from him. But he took his time, settling the bag beside the chair, straightening his sweater and pants until he was comfortable.

When he inclined his head to the Headmaster to begin, he received a brief nod in return of understanding before the wizard spoke again.

"I have made mistakes with you Harry. More than should be forgiven, most likely. When you arrived in the Wizarding world you were just as knowledgeable as a muggle-born and I decided to allow you to remain that way unless you began to search for information."

"Information I wouldn't have known existed. I realize that," Harry agreed. "The question is why?"

"I wanted you to see the wonder of our world. To see its beauty before you were exposed to its ugliness."

The usual reaction would be for him to explode but he was trying to think before he spoke these days. The beauty of the Wizarding world, he pondered Dumbledore's words slowly and carefully. The beauty before the ugliness. Why would he need to learn to appreciate it?

Dumbledore wanted him to care about the Wizarding world.

To place importance upon it.

So that when Voldemort returned, he would be willing to fight for it.

"It still doesn't explain why you would keep my heritage from me. My family."

"The burdens of carrying the mantle of an Ancient and Noble House are heavy, Harry. I thought to spare you those responsibilities until you were older."

"And spring them upon me after someone else's death," he couldn't help that bit of sarcasm. "I trusted you to help me, to guide me, and you abused that trust."

The word abuse didn't sit well with the older man, obviously, considering their previous words; the comparison to his relatives must be repugnant. "What about Sirius and Remus? Did you forbid them from telling me?"

"No. Sirius did wonder," Dumbledore admitted. "He mentioned speaking to you over the winter break about the house of Black and that you had no idea what he was talking about. He wanted to know why you dressed so shabbily. Why you weren't wearing the Potter ring."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That you chose not to wear the ring because you were having difficulties with Mr. Weasley the year before and did not want to exacerbate the situation further."

"A good lie," Harry nodded. "One that sounds like something I would do, so Sirius wouldn't question it. He would remember how Ron behaved at the beginning of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and then he would recall how Remus felt about being a werewolf during their school years and use those memories as a comparison."

Everyone probably believed he knew, Harry realized. They weren't keeping things from him. And that was worse because people thought he didn't care about his heritage, his family, to such an extent that he didn't acknowledge his place as the head of his family.

If he had ever thought he understood Albus Dumbledore, he was greatly mistaken. This wasn't the first lie, no the man had been withholding information from him for years. He shouldn't feel so betrayed, so utterly shaken. But he was. His magic bubbled and seethed within him, seeking a way to express his fury. It meant their little meeting had to come to an end. He didn't want to hurt Dumbledore; he just didn't want to be in the man's presence any longer.

"Do you have my ring?"

He had to know. Part of him hoped Dumbledore's betrayal didn't run that deep. Wanting to protect the Wizarding world could be considered honorable. It ran roughshod all over his feelings, but the Headmaster couldn't consider the needs of one over so many. Theft however would have to be addressed because it wouldn't be tolerated.

"No, I don't." He shook his head knowing he had lost a great deal of Harry's trust. "The Potter vaults aren't accessible by anyone other than a member of your family."

"Vaults?" He whispered remembering his first year. The sheer astonishment of owning so many galleons when he had gone without all of his life.

"Yes. The vault available to you is your trust vault." Dumbledore explained. "you will have to speak with one of the goblins at Gringotts about the remainder of your assets, Harry, as I'm not privileged with that information. I do know you wouldn't have been able to access those vaults until your 16th birthday."

Truth or lie. Harry was saddened to admit he could not tell. It would be a convenient lie. Perhaps the Headmaster had every intention of telling him. _After he defeated Voldemort_. Couldn't have Harry's attention diverted. Must keep Harry focused on what truly matters. A long dead family and heritage wasn't as important as the rest of the Wizarding world.

"If I contact Gringotts, would it be possible for me to go to London and speak with them?"

"Your training is at a crucial time. With Voldemort's recovery and amassing allies, we have to focus on strengthening your abilities for when you face him again."

"In other words, no." He closed his eyes to contain himself. "Would it be possible to meet with someone here at Hogwarts if the goblins are agreeable?"

"This-"

"I'm not letting this go, so you can stop trying to convince me. You either agree to a meeting here or I'll find a way to London on my own."

"You would risk the Wizarding world for material things Harry? Things that will be waiting for you until a later time when arrangements could be made for you to go safely to Gringotts?"

"Guilt from a man who has lied to me really isn't the right move you should be making," Harry said. "As the Wizarding world hasn't been very kind to me, You should want me to find a connection to make me care, not alienate me even more."

He could understand the man's objections, so he would be the bigger individual and compromise. "However, I do see your point. So, if the goblins don't agree to a meeting here at Hogwarts, I'll consent to wait until winter break to visit Gringotts so that proper arrangements can be made." He didn't want to place Order members in danger out searching for him because he had run off, but he needed Dumbledore to understand he was serious.

"That will have to suffice," Dumbledore quietly agreed.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Is there anything else I can do for you Harry?"

"No, I'm fine, Sir. I should head down to breakfast."

Albus Dumbledore had done quite enough for him already.

**FSFSFS**

By thetime he made it down, the Great Hall was full. He wouldn't have time for a complete breakfast and food wouldn't sit well on his angry stomach anyway but he would eat because he had promised Leo he would take care of himself. His friends were already seated in their normal places at the Gryffindor table when he arrived.

"I thought perhaps we had missed you entirely this morning," Hermione smiled up from the Arithmancy book she was studying while finishing her breakfast. She looked him over briefly, a small frown of concern tightening her lips. "Where were you? Is something wrong?"

"I had to see Dumbledore this morning," he paused at his seat across from her, took a deep breath and then sat down.

"Another vision?"

That would be the easy way to get out of explaining things but he found his own secrets distasteful after dealing with the Headmasters. "No, just something personal that I needed to speak with him about." His tone said he wasn't going to say more and he hoped she accepted it. Another argument wasn't something he looked forward to. Ron was already sitting right next to her and ignoring him completely.

"Alright then," she smiled briefly before returning to her meal.

Harry closed his eyes, clearing his thoughts, and began intoning the morning blessing. Embracing the stir of his magic. Rejoicing in this connection and how it seemed not only to rejuvenate him so that he was prepared for the day but it also centered him, calmed his anger and was a balm to his aching soul.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed Neville's gaze focused on him. He nodded once in recognition, seeing Neville's expression of amazement and pleasure. Perhaps tomorrow they could perform the rite together so Neville wouldn't feel he had to hide any longer.

Neville's gaze wasn't the only Gryffindor watching him. Not that he cared. Someone was always watching him it seemed.

"What was that?" Ginny finally spoke up from her place on the other side of Hermione.

"It's just a blessing," he explained then began gathering his meal. He found he was hungry now and he only had a few minutes before he had to depart for class.

"And when did you start doing that?"

Ginny sounded a lot like her mother with that insistent tone. He loved Molly Weasley and could appreciate the concerned mothering to her own children. Directing that attitude to someone who had spent most of his life taking are of himself was a mistake. For Ginny, who was a year younger, to address him in such a way, as if she had every right, wasn't the way she should go about seeking answers from him. Not if she wanted to continue being his friend. He could accept Hermione's mothering, it was merely her way of expressing herself at times and she did it because she loved him. Ginny wasn't Hermione.

"He's changed," Ron spoke for the first time, before Harry could politely tell Ginny to mind her own business. "All these special classes and that exercise rot. Prancing around looking like Malfoy, he's not acting like the Harry we know."

"Ron you sound foolish," Hermione shook her head in exasperation. Harry could tell the same question Ginny posed had been seconds from her own lips. "Harry hasn't changed just because he decided to apply himself in class or attire himself properly."

Of course her defense wouldn't sit well with her boyfriend. "Sure, you always take up for Harry."

"I didn't realize I needed to defend Harry from his best friend." Her tone was coolly disapproving. "Have the two of you been arguing?"

"Yes."

"No."

They both answered at the same time causing Hermione to sigh tiredly. "Which is it now?"

Harry stared at Ron, raising brows as if to say, 'you explain.' When the redhead said nothing, Harry rolled his eyes and turned to her. "We're having a disagreement about you." After wiping his hands on a napkin, he reached into his rucksack until he found an extra invitation and passed it across the table to her.

"Wanted this to be a bit of a surprise but seeing as Ron and I aren't," he stopped, dipping his head slightly. "Never mind. That's the cause of the argument."

Hermione opened the invitation, a soft gasp of pleasure escaping before she placed a hand over her mouth. "The two of you were planning a birthday party for me?"

"A Coming of Age ceremony," he clarified but he could see she didn't quite see the difference. A quick glance around the Gryffindor table told him that Neville and shockingly enough Pavarti did. "But yes, Ron and I were planning a celebration for you on Thursday."

She squealed with excitement.

Straight laced, bookworm, rule abiding, Hermione Granger, squealed happily before throwing her arms around Ron's neck and covering his cheek with kisses. "Oh thank you, thank you," she managed in between kisses. "Thank you so much."

Ron's skin flushed so red, the freckles on his face could barely be discerned. A crooked smile of pleasure curved across his face as he returned the enthusiastic hug. "Well, it was nothing," Ron stammered with embarrassment though everyone could clearly see he was enjoying his girlfriend's attention.

"No, it's wonderful and thoughtful. Thank you," she leaned back kissing Ron briefly on the lips, and then turned to face him. "Thank you both."

"It's no problem," Harry smiled, a glint of humor returning at his best friend's blatant delight.

"So why were you two fighting then?"

Ron's eyes widened with guilt, realizing he had just taken credit for the very party he had argued against having. He threw an anxious glance at him and Harry sighed before looked away.

"Just a disagreement on whether or not you would enjoy a chocolate cake or a fruit filled one."

"Oh fruit obviously. Much better than the sweetness of chocolate," she grinned mischievously at them.

"Just what Ron was saying," Harry nodded and went back to his food. The entire situation sitting heavily on his stomach for reasons he didn't want to explore too deeply.


	11. Chapter 11

Rated: M

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concetps of Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

By Wednesday, Harry was no closer to accepting the newest changes in his life than before. It was difficult feeling as though he couldn't trust the things in his life he had counted on before. There were so many things he took for granted and now it seemed as though the rose colored glasses were gone and everything was harsh and unfamiliar.

The beauty of the Wizarding world had given way. Dumbledore's worries were well founded. Though Harry had to wonder if it had been a self fulfilling prophecy, as the elder wizard played a large role in Harry's loss of innocence. It wasn't all Voldemort and the Daily Prophet.

These were his thoughts when Professor Vector walked into the classroom late that afternoon instead of Leo. She wore her usual attire, long slinky and velvet, though this time her tall graceful figure was covered in a deep emerald. Around her narrow waist was a golden metal belt that only emphasized her shapely figure and as she slipped her teaching robes off to lay across a chair, he noted the sleeves of her gown belled at the wrists almost covering her hands. Wild curls were pinned atop her head and her eyes were still smoky and mysterious.

One thing he had noticed about the Professor, she wasn't caught up in the propaganda surrounding his reputation. She treated him much like a kid brother, asking if he was eating his meals, how his classes were coming along, was he resting properly. It was different from Mrs. Weasley, because he couldn't imagine, Ron's mother ruffling his hair or demanding he call Mrs. Weasley by her first name. And nothing like Hermione's protective nature either.

The first time she flicked his forehead because he forgot to call her by her first name, he sat in shock for at least ten minutes. It was such a careless gesture. Not even Ron or Hermione treated him that way, always staying a reserved distance away, though Hermione had eventually given over to those rib crushing hugs of hers. Harry could count on his hand the number of people who didn't treat him with awe, polite indifference, or out right hatred.

"Good Afternoon Harry, you're looking," she paused then gave him a thorough once over, "You're looking somewhat horrid actually? Is everything alright?"

"It's been a long few days," he admitted, though he it was always nice to see the Professor because she usually had a smile and some great new theory about magic to explore, he had been looking forward to the physical workout with Leo this class period.

As a result of his month of detentions, Leo was working him at an insane pace. The better to learn to control his temper, Harry was told, and so far he was doing a better job of thinking before speaking. Their lessons had become a study in the human body's capacity to endure.

After many intense grueling sessions, Harry had finally mastered how to throw a punch properly, as well as block the powerful blows Leo aimed in his direction. Incorporating his legs and feet in defensive as well as offensive moves hadn't been as easy to master, though Harry felt as though his muscles were finally remembering the proper movements. He was no where near Leo's level but confident enough that wouldn't have his arse completely handed to him in a physical fight.

Next week they would move on to throws, something Harry wasn't looking forward to. Leo said this aspect of fight was extremely important, that Harry needed to learn not only to fall properly but to force his body back to a standing position in a variety of different ways. Advanced agility training, Leo called it. Potter Arse-kicking and Torture part two, was Harry's stance.

As far as his spell work was concerned, Harry was comfortable with his thirteen chosen spells. They left him exhausted after long duels but he no longer had to think before casting them. Now they were working on silent casting and he could already cast two of his offensive spells and three of his defensive.

Strangely enough, Leo had been in favor of using the serpensortia spell as he planned to teach Harry how to use transfiguration techniques while dueling. He explained his reasoning by saying if Harry cast the snake summoning curse as a defensive measure, any of the reptiles could be transfigured into both inanimate and animate objects to use against an opponent. The parseltongue was also a nice bonus as any weapon in a fight was a good weapon as long as it couldn't be used against him. Since he and Voldemort were the only two known parselmouths, everyone else was fair game.

"Well, I think I've found a solution to your Occlumency difficulties." She set down the large box she was carrying on the table, removing the lid and then the contents. Next she unrolled several feet of parchment and grabbed a piece of chalk to start writing on the black board.

After his refusal to continue lessons with Snape, Dumbledore had approached Professor Vector for a less traditional approach to solving the issue of Voldemort and his nightmares. She had looked upon it as a challenge, her enthusiasm a much better response than Snape's nasty attitude. She had informed him on Monday of her quest and he was surprised she returned with an answer so soon.

He closed the journal Leo gave him, setting it on the table as well, and had to grin. "That's the best news I've had in days." He might not be able to wrap his mind around this Lord business but getting Voldemort out of his head was even better.

"I know we haven't had much time together Harry and I feel I must apologize for my absences. I've given you a great deal of research and information but I haven't spent much time helping you to understand it."

So far Leo had occupied most of the private instruction scheduled but he didn't mind, the physical work was more his forte anyway, though learning about the runes and rituals they were used for was interesting.

"You have classes, Professor Vector, I understand."

The second the words left his mouth, Harry grimaced at the mistake. She turned from her work with a sly smirk. Without a word, she reached over and flicked him in the forehead lightly making them both chuckle.

"I know it's a change," she began in a husky voice filled with amusement. "Calling your instructor by her first name but I like to believe we're working as peers here Harry. You're certainly attempting to accomplish something I never could be capable of. You're more than welcome to call me Septima, as I believe I've said before. I don't want to simply give you information; I want our time together to be a process of active learning, not only for yourself but for me as well."

"Alright," he agreed, though it would be difficult not to call her Professor, as every time he did, a voice that sounded very similar to Hermione seemed to screech in horror.

She set the chalk down and sat on the edge of the table, giving him her full attention. "First, however, is there anything I can help you with? As I said, you look troubled."

Harry found he wanted a fresh perspective, from someone who had not been involved in his life for the past five years. Blaise would have been preferable, as this had all started with a conversation with the Slytherin but Septima had been nothing but kind to him and had no real hidden agenda that he could see.

"I was wondering what you knew about Ancient and Noble Houses."

A perfectly arched brow lifted in response, "So, the Lord Potter is finally acknowledging his birthright?"

There was no mistaking the criticism in her voice and it made him cringe. "I didn't know," he murmured but even to his ears the excuse sounded feeble.

"What do you mean you didn't know? The Potters have been an integral part of the Wizarding world for centuries. Your family is apart of the original thirteen, did you think your importance to the Wizarding world was merely because of what happened to you all those years ago on Halloween?"

Actually, he had, with the Boy-who-lived rubbish he had to endure. She stared at him so long, he thought perhaps she would retract her offer of friendship she was so disgusted with him. What she said next was surprising.

"You truly didn't know, did you?" A slender hand began gesturing as she spoke, "All this time, you have had no idea. I feel as though I should apologize for having played even an unacknowledged role in this travesty."

"To be fair, I think everyone was like you." He shrugged lightly, "They believed that someone had already told me."

"I thought perhaps it was a phase you were going through, you know. Muggle teenaged rebellion, such rot." She explained her face a study of guilt. "Unfortunately, there isn't much I am able to tell you about Ancient and Noble Houses. I know a great deal about the Potter family's accomplishments however. Your family was critical in the passing of several laws regarding potion ingredients and the collection of them from magical creatures. Considering the close business ties the Potter and Davis families have, that's not surprising."

"Davis? As in Tracey Davis?"

"Why yes. Her family is the forerunner in that field." She paused and bit her lower lip, thinking. "There have also been two Ministers of magic from your family."

"Two?"

"Yes but that was many years ago. When several of the thirteen Houses started practicing dark magic and influencing the Wizengamot's laws concerning muggle-borns, the Potters began focusing on legislation and as a result became very influential voices in society."

"Why don' they teach this in History of Magic, instead of going on about goblin wars?"

"Frankly because this is common knowledge in most households. Its easy to forget the muggle-borns aren't raised with this knowledge, and so many of our traditions are lost as more are making their way into the Wizarding world. Then the pureblood families use this as an excuse to try to forbid their entry into our world but it was these same purebloods that make it so difficult for muggle-borns to gain access to this knowledge."

"It's a vicious circle."

"That it is, and even with half-bloods and other pure bloods that support muggle-borns, it's a struggle because pure bloods are usually among the wealthy and privileged in our world with the connections and resources to promote their agenda."

"My family helped prevent a lot of the prejudice against muggle-borns, didn't they?" He was beginning to understand why she had sounded so disappointed in him. But wasn't fighting Voldemort enough? How much more would he have to give to the Wizarding world?

Except that was a child's thinking, he realized with a heavy heart. Those who were born to power and influence had an obligation to those without. How could he look at Hermione again, when his very inaction could resort in some law being voted in to hurt her? As much as he wanted to shy away from the public attention, he was in a position to make changes.

"Is this a part of growing up?"

"Yes, Harry, it is. You've been dealt a grave disservice. But if you would allow me, I'd like to help you. After this war, and the Divine willing, there will be an after this war for us all, you will need to be prepared to take your place in our society to make a difference. In the meantime," she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and smiled, "Your Occlumency."

"Getting Voldemort out of my head," he nodded in agreement. "So what did you have in mind?

"Can you tell me the four perfect numbers and what each denotes?"

Numbers? He had been studying runes, how was he to know this and he hadn't studied Arithmancy? "I don't know."

"That's an easy answer. I want you to actually think about it before answering this time."

She looked at him with such expectation; he really didn't want to let her down. "Um, I think seven is one."

"That's a big one too Harry. Even muggles understand some of the power of the number seven, though it is often ignored as superstition. Can you think of another?"

"I don't," he stopped when a memory flickered briefly along the edges of his consciousness. It was very old, something that managed to remain there regardless of the years that had passed. _Three, it's the magic number. Yes it is. The number three._ A woman's voice sang the simple melody, probably his initial school years. The memory left a warm pleasant feeling in his stomach, one of few he had from early childhood at the Dursleys. At school he was safe for a while. He was Harry, not freak or boy.

"Three?" He offered tentatively.

"Very good. The other two are a bit more difficult for those who haven't studied numerology. The four perfect numbers in magic are three which denotes divine perfection, seven denoting spiritual perfection. Then there is ten, ordinal perfection and twelve for governmental perfection. Are you with me so far?"

"I think so."

"When I was searching through an Old Norse runes tome, looking for a ritual to help you, I kept running across the number three in its many different variations and forms. Now I'm not a seer but usually when something like that happens it's for a reason."

"And what did you come up with?"

"These attack you suffer, you're not just affected mentally, correct?"

Harry took a moment and thought about what she was asking, recalling the details from this last attack and how he felt afterwards. His body had ached for a long while, just as if the cruciatus curse Voldemort cast was on him and not the stupid Death Eater he eventually killed. The curse scar on his forehead had split open, covering him with blood. His magic had felt tainted. Dirty.

So he tried to explain all of these things to her and with each word she nodded eagerly, and smiled as if he were confirming something she had already figured out.

"Three is a very special number Harry. Not just in magical culture but in so many others across the world. Its roots stem from the meaning of multiplicity. Its creative power is growth. Three is a moving forward of energy, overcoming duality, expression, manifestation and synthesis. Three is the first number to which the meaning "all" was given. It is The Triad, being the number of the whole as it contains the beginning, a middle and an end."

"I think I understand all of that," which was something because this type of stuff was clearly in Hermione's domain. Maybe this is what Leo meant when he said he would have to learn to do things on his own. It was good to have Hermione there at his side, but there were times he would have to figure things out on his own. This definitely was one of them.

"So would you agree given everything you've told me, these invasions affect you mentally, physically as well as your spirit, if you believe your magic to be a connection to your spirit?"

"Yes." It certainly fit. That was three things right there.

"There is a symbol which represents this relationship." She turned stood lifting her chalk and drawing on the board. "Have you ever seen one of these before?"

"No. It looks like a three sided triangle."

"Good," her smile brightened. "For that's exactly what it is, really, an interlaced three-cornered shape. Triquetra. Each corner representing the body, the mind and the spirit."

"But what does this have to do with Occlumency."

"I want to perform a ritual from the old ways, Harry, using Norse runes and this triquetra as a foundation along with a healing spell to help prevent you know who from penetrating your mind. Each step is based in the number 3. Three runes, three healing herbs and the triquetra, denoting divine perfection in a ritual asking the Divine for protection."

"I'm lost now. I didn't know you followed the old ways." He had read those words in the Curious Half-blood, the old traditions of magic he had begun exploring. He didn't know any of the Professors of Hogwarts practiced them as well.

"I may be a half-blood but my parents still believe strongly in the old ways Harry. Thus my love for Ancient Runes. They are the building blocks to many of our rituals. Now with Norse runes there is a unique order of the fuþark, the Norse runic alphabet, and its traditional division into three 'aetts' or it's 'families' or 'groups. This is why I chose them."

"Three."

"Exactly. Now traditional Rune spells and rituals were cut into wood, bone or stone to create a talisman. In your case, that wouldn't be very effective."

"You want to cut the runes into me?" At his whispered guess, her expression grew stilled and serious. "Wouldn't that be considered blood magic? Dark magic?"

"This wouldn't be considered blood magic as the blood involved is negligible. There is just enough blood to tie your magic into the runes themselves. But you should know, not all blood magic is Dark, Harry. There are many old rituals and spells whose roots start with blood."

'_Blood of the enemy.'_ Unfortunately, all he could hear were Wormtail's words in the graveyard. Images of Cedric dead, with him bound to a crypt and that disgusting thing Voldemort had been before his rebirth flickered before his eyes.

"Harry. Harry, can you hear me?"

He jerked violently when hands closed gently on his arms, forcing his mind back into the present. He was shaking and hadn't even noticed.

"I won't-"

"Harry look at me." She insisted.

"No, no I won't."

"Harry!" She shook him hard, and his eyes jerked up to meet her intense ones. "Harry do you trust me not to hurt you."

He wanted to laugh at that. Trust? Trust, when at one point or other everyone he trusted either betrayed him or let him down. Trust was a rare commodity for Harry Potter.

"No I suppose not," she sighed and he thought he heard sadness there but was still too caught up in old memories to focus clearly. Septima released his arms and took three steps backward before raising her arm. He was rolling off his chair to the floor backing away before she could speak.

She moved faster than he expected, kneeling down before him and grasping his hand tightly in her own. At the first tap of her wand against their joined hands, a thin ribbon of red flame flowed from her wand and wrapped around their hands.

"What are you doing?"

"I Septima Helena Vector, do hereby swear upon my life and my magic, no maliciously intended harm shall come from my person to Harry Potter" A red flash of light, confirming the vow, swirled around them, then their hands before sealing into their skin. "I swear upon my life and magic to do everything within my power to help him succeed in his quest to rid the Wizarding world of Voldemort." She almost choked on the name but it halted the wild panic swirling in his chest. Another band of magic sealed her words. "I swear upon my life and magic to keep the things Harry Potter tells me in confidence until the time he gives me permission to speak of it to others."

The thrice born vow flashed brightly, building in power. "My intent I declare before the Divine, let me be judged rightfully if my fidelity is broken. Upon my life, upon my magic, as I will it, so mote it be." The waves of magic burned crimson then a bright golden to pure white before dividing and slipping into both their chests.

Just as quickly the moment was over and she stood pulling him carefully to his feet as well.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"To prove I can be trusted," she smiled softly before taking the same hand that had gripped his so strongly during the vow and caressing his cheek softly. "For truly what harm shall be done if I prove to be honorable. What have I promised, Harry? To never hurt you _intentionally_, for if we perform this ritual there will be some pain involved but I won't enjoy your pain. To help you fight Voldemort? I do that each time we meet and I'll continue to do so until you no longer need my help. And to keep your confidence? Is that really so difficult a thing to do?"

"But you swore on your life! On your magic! I know what happens when those kinds of vows are broken!"

"If it helps you to trust me Harry, then it's worth it. You're worth it Harry."

He took a deep breath, so far this school year the steps he had taken out on faith had brought more good than ill. So if Septima was willing to make an Unbreakable Vow then he was willing to step out one more time.

"What do we have to do for the ritual?"

* * *

_FSFSFS_

"Now are you ready?"

Harry kneeled in the center of a circle grounded with salt with the purest of white candles inside the circle; one to the north of him, one to the south, the east and west each lit with bluebell flames. "Ready as I'll ever be," he tried for a smile but was too full of nerves. They had gone over the information until he understood all of it and the ritual itself several times before she suggested they begin.

Septima had asked him to remove the t-shirt he wore as well as his socks and trainers and he was feeling exposed with his chest bared and the different scars he had gained over the years showing. He glanced again at the diagram of the triquetra on the chalkboard they would be using during the ritual. Within each section of the triquetra a rune would be inscribed with a circle flowing through the loops to unify the runes. It wasn't very complex, to which she had replied sometimes the simple things were the best.

"Now, you remember the runes we chose for you?"

"Representing the mind, we decided on purisaz of the first aett, its divinatory purpose is for discipline, knowledge, introspection, focus. Its magical purposes is to aid in study and meditation and self-discipline. It is to help me understand that there will be obstacles placed in my path but they are to strengthen and teach me."

"Good," she nodded, stirring in large pewter bowl. She poured the thick mixture into a smaller golden bowl and passed it to him inside the circle. He placed the bowl on the floor in front of him. "And for the body?"

"Algiz of the second aett. It is a protection rune. And for Spirit, laguz from the third aett."

"Yes, the water rune. And what's so significant about this one?"

"Its divination purposes are discipline, knowledge, introspection, focus and magical properties are enhancing psychic abilities, confronting fears, stabilizing mental or emotional disorders. I still think we should go with some of the other runes like teiwaz, for the warrior path. These seem a little, I don't know."

"What not manly enough for you Harry? You thought we were going to cover you with runes that would make you big and strong" Her gentle laughter rippled through the air, warm and rich, and completely at his expense. "Our purpose is not for attack here. We're trying to defend your mind. To protect and fortify it against violation. You'll have plenty of opportunity to discover rune ceremonies for warriors. Small steps, Harry."

Alright, so when she put it that way it did sound like he was getting ahead of himself. He could always learn more like she said. This type of magic could be a big advantage when fighting Voldemort.

"For ink to draw the runes, we'll be using a mixture of arnica for the body, fluxweed for the mind and rose petals for the spirit crushed in witch hazel extract and rosehips oil. Now you're sure you understand everything?"

"I'm ready whenever you are."

Septima nodded once, moving toward the circle, wand in hand. She took a deep breath, raising her hands and Harry could feel the air around him grow warm with magic. It was rich and seductive filling him with a heady excitement that bordered on arousal. He closed his eyes taking a deep breath and could almost smell fire building. In his mind the image of Blaise shone unsteadily, before fading as he was reminded so strongly of the Slytherin. Unsettled his eyes opened. Then the circle of salt around him caught flame.

"What was that?"

A flash of humor crossed her face, her laughter low and throaty. "Oh Lord Potter, the things you have to learn. It shall be a joy to teach you. That is my magic and it seems yours compliments it well. I would say you resonate with air as my magic is of fire."

"Oh," he didn't follow but knew she would tell him more. And hopefully he would understand why it brought Blaise Zabini to his mind.

"Now be silent so I may finish." Again she took a breath before beginning the chant. "An endless circle and eternal knot, the circle of life, the path that comes back to its own beginning. Divine, we beseech you."

A thin trail of the mixture flowed upward from the bowl into the air and Harry bowed low to the floor knowing the path it would seek. Septima would direct the dark red ink to the back of his neck where the runic pattern would be literally tattooed into his skin. As the formation of the triquetra began, it burned like the fire ignited around him, so much that he had to bite his lip to hold back the gasp of pain.

"Wings of healing, wise and strong. Home to his mind, Protection he seeks." This would begin the rune for his mind. He could feel his magic stirring, tying itself into the patterns being drawn on his skin.

"Flame of Healing, nourishing his temple. Power his belonging, make him strong."

This time the fiery streak of pain brought a choked cry forth from his lips before he could stop it. His hands gripped at his pant legs remaining as still as possible so that as the rune for his body could finish.

"Waves of Healing, home to truth. Cradle him to silence, purify his spirit."

The next part would be the most difficult. Harry dragged in a deep breath feeling her magic and his crest in the air around them. It felt wild and hungry. Joyful and insistent. It was beautiful despite its pain.

"Rhythm of his heartbeat, still his pain. Home to his bones, make him whole again." And he could feel each agonizing inch of the circle unifying the magic of the rituals. "Endless light of the Divine, grant this boon. Heal his mind. Heal his body. Heal his soul. As we will it, so mote it be."

* * *

_FSFSFS_

Septima would tell him later it was the most powerful ritual she had ever witnessed. His magic had literally risen up in a whirlwind of energy jerking him from his knees to hover several inches in the air. His eyes had shone a brilliant emerald as he screamed, magic sparking and dancing around him. Then it slammed back into his body rendering him unconscious until long after the dinner hour.

"I had Professor Dumbledore excuse your detention for the night," she told him as she watched him pull his t-shirt over his head. "You won't have to make it up; I explained what we were doing here and how it affected your magic. How are you feeling?"

"I feel good." And he did, though he had been expecting to feel drained instead of so rejuvenated. Pain lingered in the markings on the back of his neck but he couldn't wait to rush back to the dorms to see how it looked. "I think it worked, Septima. My mind feels so clear."

"What about the connection?"

"I can tell it's still there but it's more like knowing my heart beats or the blood flows through my veins. Do you see what I mean?"

"We'll have to see how it affects your magic tomorrow in class but for tonight, I'll have one of the house elves bring you something to eat from the kitchen and I want you to go straight back to the Gryffindor dorms to get some rest Harry. You probably feel amazing right now, that's the excess magic from the ritual. I don't want you to push yourself too hard."

"Alright Septima, good night."


	12. Chapter 12

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts from the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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* * *

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**Chapter Twelve**

Something was different about Harry today.

Neville didn't quite understand what had changed but if the smile on his face was any indication, it was a good change this time. Over the past weeks, he noticed several changes in Harry. At first, Neville thought it was because of his godfather's death last spring in the Department of Mysteries. Sometimes, when he looked at Harry, he could still hear that strangled cry the other had given as Sirius fell through the veil. It was the worst sound he had ever heard, like Harry's entire heart had broken and would never mend again.

They were similar that way, he and Harry. Each knew the depths of grief most of their friends could never comprehend. How could they? They had never lost a parent, the person who was the most essential person in a child's life. While he had his grandmother, she could never replace the parents who were trapped within themselves in St. Mungo's. He would forever be without a mother's arms, his father's regard and Harry knew what that felt like. Luna knew.

So after watching Sirius fall, he couldn't imagine Harry's heartache. Couldn't imagine losing his Gran, no matter how strict she was at times, or how she always compared him to his father. So he thought the changes in Harry were based in grief. Perhaps they were in the beginning. He returned to school with a cold edge that seemed to further separate Harry from the rest of their year mates.

They all knew Harry's home life wasn't best, especially when he returned to school looking ten pounds lighter and usually with dark circles under his eyes. No one mentioned the barely eaten meals or the broken glasses with taped frames or even the second hand clothes that were several sizes too big.

It had all become apart of Harry's identity.

When classes started, a light had brightened in Harry's eyes. A determination. It was still cold edged and at times intimidating because Neville knew Harry had focused all of his energy into defeating Voldemort. At some point during the summer, Harry had turned inward and made the leap from child to adult while everyone else was still enjoying adolescence.

Hermione and Ron had no clue, or they preferred to pretend they hadn't noticed the changes in their best friend. Mostly, Neville thought it because they were too wrapped up in themselves and their new relationship to give Harry much thought. Oh, Ron still tried to talk him into playing chess or exploding snap, or discuss the latest quidditch news and Hermione still hovered and nagged about school work. Even Ginny it seemed was trying to etch out her place in Harry's life.

Harry was barely giving them a passing glance. Whereas before Harry might have put off doing his work to hang out with Ron, this year he focused on his studies. Especially the ones that had him up every morning at six exercising and watching what he ate and taking strange vials of potions. Hermione didn't have much to complain about, so she had taken to studying Harry as though he were a difficult book she needed to interpret.

No one else understood what Harry was doing but Neville had figured it out the night he came down in those 'muggle exercise clothes' looking better than he had in a very long time. Harry was training. Honing himself into the weapon he needed to become to defeat Voldemort. Preparing for War.

"Morning, Neville."

Harry slipped into the chair next to him in the Great Hall, freshly dressed in a clean and pressed uniform barely a minute after him. He had obviously tried to tame the lion's mane of hair of his but it was already rebelling in a few different directions. It was the first time they arrived at breakfast at the same time and after yesterday's altercation with Ron, Neville had thought perhaps Harry would be arriving alone.

"Morning Harry, you're looking well." And he did. Harry's magic was practically shimmering around him.

"I feel great actually. No nightmares. A great workout. Never felt better." He grinned as he settled into his seat. "Hey Neville, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I was wondering, since, well I've seen you and I think you're the only Gryffindor who does. I thought maybe you and I could-"

"Perform morning blessing together?" He filled in for his rambling friend. He had hoped Harry would ask. It wasn't that he was ashamed of following the old ways but there were so many instances when the Gryffindors would look at him askance when he said the morning blessing that he had begun practicing silently.

"Yeah," this smile was shades of the old Harry. Shy, a little hesitant even. It was good to know the boy Neville met years ago for the first time was still inside the man. "I didn't know your family practiced the old traditions. I'm not saying that you didn't, I just meant I hadn't even heard of the old ways until Tracey gave me the book, so even if I had noticed you performing the morning blessing I wouldn't have known what it was."

"But Harry, the Potters-"

"I know," he interrupted; the anger in Harry's voice was palpable. "I've heard a great deal about the Potters over the last couple of days, Neville. Things I had never heard before. It really bites that so many people are aware of my family while I sit here the clueless Gryffindor people want me to be. I had to send a letter to Gringotts to even confirm what I finally discovered because I can't seem to trust the people in authority here to tell me the things I need to know."

"If you like, I could help you a little with that?" Neville hesitated, measuring Harry's reaction for a moment, before adding in a stronger voice, "The Ancient and Noble house of Longbottom would be honored if you would accept our assistance."

It was a proposal set forth in the traditional sense and Neville saw from the light in Harry's eyes that he understood. "The Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter would gladly accept your aid. Neville, I don't know if I ever thanked you for what you did for me that morning after my nightmare."

"It's alright Harry, I didn't"

"But you did," Harry interrupted, "And I appreciate it. I do. So, thank you Neville."

"You're welcome."

_FSFSFS_

Things were better between him and Ron with the secret of Hermione's party out in the open. Now that it was finally the day, Harry was starting to get a little nervous. Hermione was certain to wonder where he had found the information regarding the Coming of Age ceremony. He wasn't sure he could contrive a believable lie because he still wasn't ready to give over his secret of the book from Tracey. Hopefully she would be too busy enjoying the remainder of the party to corner him for a question and answer session.

The two arrived shortly after he and Neville completed their blessings, a good thing, for he didn't want to get into another argument with Ron about how he was changing. Probably for the worst in the redhead's opinion.

"Happy Birthday, 'Mione," he smiled as they sat down across from him in their usual seats. Ron looked a bit self-satisfied while Hermione's face was flushed a pretty rose telling him there had been some birthday snogging going on before they arrived at the Great Hall.

"Thank you Harry. I'm so excited about the party tonight. Are you certain Professor Dumbledore gave permission for us to use the Room of Requirement?"

"Yes," Harry sighed for perhaps the tenth time. Hermione had been making sure they wouldn't get in trouble for the party since she had discovered it. "You just make sure to wear a pretty dress and show up at seven."

"I'll make sure she gets there on time," Ron confirmed, getting into the spirit of the party now that he knew harry wouldn't tell how he had argued against the party in the beginning.

"Harry are you always going to head down without us now?"

"It just isn't right," Ron added, more focused on the food he was placing in front of him than the actual conversation. The two seemed to argue for his presence more for the habit of than truly wanting him around. He didn't mind, it had been like that since the two of them became something more than friends. This simply gave the two more time alone together.

"I'm not doing it to hurt your feelings. It's just the way things are now."

"You didn't even ask if we wanted to train with you in the mornings. I know you want to wait to restart the DA and we can't take your classes during the day with you but in this we could join you."

"I'm not purposely excluding you 'Mione. If you want to get up at six and join my morning run, you're welcome to join me."

"Six! You're insane Mate." Ron's reaction was typical for someone who was sometimes the last one out of bed. There was no way Ron would ever get up so early for anything except for perhaps Quidditch. "No thanks. I don't get the point of running around anyway."

"It's good cardiovascular conditioning," Hermione explained the health benefits that Ron wasn't paying attention to. As her parents were doctors he knew she would be familiar with the purpose of exercise.

To be honest, he enjoyed running alone and didn't want the company. During his runs he was able to think through homework problems or work through anger he didn't want to carry around for the rest of the day. He didn't want to mar the experience by having to act a certain way because of his best friends.

The morning owls flew in with a great flurry of wing and feather as he was finishing his milk. Most dropped off the day's edition of the Daily Prophet before returning to their origins. An elegant brown eagle owl flew toward him and Harry lifted his arm allowing the bird to settle gracefully.

"Aren't you handsome," he murmured and it preened under the compliment, ruffling speckled feathers. The owl extended its clawed foot so Harry could detach the crisp folded parchment it carried.

"Do you require a response?" He asked after feeding the bird a piece of bacon from his plate. The owl finished its treat, alighting from his arm to settle comfortably on the back of his chair. "I guess that's a yes."

"Who is that from?" Ron gestured to the letter in his hand. "Looks like the Gringotts seal."

"It is," Harry mused, turning the letter over in his hands, trying to settle his racing heart and appear calm so his friends wouldn't suspect something was wrong.

"Well, aren't you going to read it?"

Ron had no idea why he was hesitating. No idea this letter had the ability to change his life irrevocably. He wanted to open it, to know his family and the heritage he had been without for sixteen years. Yet he was terrified of what he would find. If he was even capable of living up to the expectations that would surely come, on top of the prophecy connecting him to Voldemort.

Was he prepared for this? Since coming to Hogwarts responsibilities had been trust upon him, one after the other. Was he ready for more?

"It will be alright Harry." Neville placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and it helped to know he had someone who would be there and could understand. Someone who not confuse this with their own personal issues.

He pried the seal open and began reading the document, his hands gripping the parchment tightly. With each word, each confirmation he felt a knot twist then untangle deep in his chest.

Yes, he was the head of the Potter family and his assets had been in trust under a steward, Seymour Colfax, arranged by his father, James Philip Potter, more than twenty years ago. His father's parents, Philip Alexander Potter and Margaret Maeve Potter, nee Roarke, had passed during James' sixth year of attendance at Hogwarts and he was forced to instill a trustee until he finished school. Unfortunately his graduation came at the height of the war and the steward remained in place with strict appraisal by Gringotts each quarter.

The inheritance department of Gringotts had been waiting for him to contact them after his sixteenth birthday. There were several documents that needed his signature and items that were placed with the goblins by his parents for him to claim, including the Potter ring which was added later after his father's death. He was also expected to arrange future financial arrangements concerning the Potter estate.

A meeting on Sunday afternoon at one was suggested to give Gringotts time to contact both the steward of the Potter estate for his required attendance as well to notify Gringott's Ireland branch that the Roarke scion needed an accounting of his assets. He knew this came from his grandmother's family but had no idea the Roarke house originated in Ireland.

Also, as the reading of the will of Sirius Black had taken place earlier during the summer, he would need to sign for the inheritance left by his godfather. This last part infuriated him because he had no idea Sirius even had a will. The only person who could keep such knowledge from him was Dumbledore.

'Another burden,' he sneered inwardly, remembering the Headmaster's excuse for not telling him anything, about his family, about the prophecy and now this probably applied to Sirius as well.

"So?"

He looked up at Ron's question wondering how he would explain this latest piece of information without alienating his friend further. The year had started off on shaky terms for them when Harry has simply rode the train back to school with Blaise, Tracey and Daphne. Followed by being ignored by Ron and Hermione because they were so caught up in dating that a third wheel was barely noticed. To complicate matters, Ron still held on to his old jealousies, beginning with labeling him a Malfoy copy and finally boiling over because of a simple party for Hermione.

"Just something about Sirius," he replied in a low voice so no one would overhear. "They're sending someone over on Sunday so I can sign some papers."

The confusion on Neville's face told Harry he could clearly see the salutation of the letter was to Harrigan James Potter, Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter and had very little to do with Sirius. A slight shake of his head seemed to help Neville understand he wasn't sharing this information with his best friends yet.

"I thought Sirius was disinherited, Harry," Hermione leaned over to whisper, "Isn't that what you told us?"

"Yes, but I don't think his family had a chance to go through the proper legal channels to finish it."

"I'm sorry. I know you don't like to talk about him but Harry in order to grieve properly you can't hold those feelings inside. You need to talk to us Harry, we're your friends, we're there for you, you know."

"I'm fine 'Mione and I appreciate what you're trying to do." He did, though the concern was too little too late. The worst of his grieving took place during his isolated summer. His godfather was gone and nothing but time would make the pain lessen. He wasn't going to bare his pain for them so they could feel he was moving on properly and to their expectations.

"What about Quidditch practice?" Ron asked around a mouthful of food.

"Practice?"

"Yes, uh, Professor McGonagall told us at dinner yesterday the team should hold tryouts for the new spots. Told us your Quidditch ban was lifted too, so you can take your spot as seeker again. Ginny agreed to try for a chaser position so you don't have to worry about her being angry. Katie was named captain." Ron paused in his ramble of information remembering suddenly, "That's right you missed dinner last night, where were you?"

"Taking care of some things with Septima," he frowned down at the papers in his hands. There were more important things going on right now and he didn't have time for Quidditch no matter how much he enjoyed playing.

"Harry! Professor Vector is a respected member of Hogwarts staff."

"Who has repeatedly told me to call her Septima," he finished for her. "Look, it's strange even to me but if that's what she wants, isn't it more disrespectful to ignore her wishes?"

"I suppose," she trailed off clearly not liking him addressing an authority figure with such familiarity.

"Besides, Ron, I don't know if I can practice, you know I have detention this month. I'll speak to Professor McGonagall later to see what she says." And to get his broom back as well.

"What things were you taking care of?" Hermione spoke up, a quirked eyebrow clearly wanting answers. "Did it have anything to do with that magical surge we all felt last evening?"

"Something like that," he hedged, knowing if he didn't give her some information she would keep digging until she uncovered all his secrets. That he really wasn't ready for. "I don't know if Septima wants me to talk about it yet before I speak to Dumbledore. So I can't tell you much but it was about my Occlumency instruction. Or rather finding away around it."

He wanted to rub a hand across the runes but didn't dare draw attention to it. It was mostly concealed beneath the collar of his shirt and the last thing he needed was a Death Eater in training to send the information back to Voldemort about strange markings on the back of Harry Potter's neck.

It was amazing how clear he felt today, as if something had been restricting not only his mind but his magic as well. While he was running, the breeze had danced across his skin, like he usually felt when he was riding his Firebolt at full speed with all caution forgotten. He could feel his magic simmering, mostly deep in his belly, just before it would wash through his body leaving him warm and just at the edge of pleasure. He couldn't wait until after Charms to speak with Septima and ask if she knew this might be a product of the ritual.

"After you speak to Professor Dumbledore then." Hermione relented but only to make sure he knew she would want answers later.

**FSFSFS**

"Professor, you wished to see me?"

The Headmaster smiled upon his entrance, looking much as usual dressed in his flamboyant robes of bright purple with golden snitches racing across the surface. At first he thought it only one until four met on his right shoulder circling each other before moving on.

"Ah, yes, Harry. I did. Please, have a seat."

"Sir, I have class this morning in ten minutes." He wasn't sure he was ready to have an in-depth conversation with Dumbledore but it seemed his wishes were to be denied yet again.

"I'm sure Professor Flitwick won't mind if I borrow his student for a few minutes. You have a double period this morning if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, sir." The man practically wrote his schedule, he should know exactly which courses he had this morning and how long it would last.

"We'll get you back in plenty of time then." Dumbledore waved to the chair across from him and Harry lowered himself to sit as it would be rude to protest more. "So, Professor Vector tells me the two of you found a solution to your Occlumency difficulties?"

"Yes, sir." He knew what the man wanted to know. After the conversation he had with Ron and Hermione, the entire castle was aware something happened last night that involved a lot of magic. Only a select few knew he was right in the midst of it. Dumbledore was one of them.

He couldn't understand why the man never simply asked direct questions for the information he wanted to know. Why play so many word games?

Dumbledore's facial expressions went through a variety of changes before settling for a small smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. If Harry didn't know better, he would swear the man had tried using Legilimency on him. Dumbledore wouldn't sink to such a level, would he?

If so, he would be sorely disappointed. Nothing was getting inside his head. He still felt the connection to Voldemort but the days of using mental magics to penetrate his mind were over. Septima's ritual was very effective.

"Should I presume your efforts were successful?"

"Yes."

It was fun keeping his answers to one or two word phrases, and he would continue to do so until Dumbledore stopped playing games with him.

"The surge of magic in the castle and your absence were noted by several students."

"Septima said she explained yesterday to you why I missed dinner and the aspects of the ritual we used."

"Professor Vector, Harry," Dumbledore remonstrated lightly. It wasn't worth it to argue that she had given him permission to address her otherwise.

"Yes, the surge of magic and my absence were connected to the ritual."

"And you believe carving runes into your body and using old magic that you aren't familiar with was the only way to achieve your aims?"

Hadn't the man expected Harry to trust the old magic protections his mother's death gave him to keep Voldemort and his Death Eaters away from Privet Drive? He couldn't have it both ways, advocating one branch of old magic and scorning another, especially when they were so closely related.

"I trust her and it's better than Professor Snape torturing me."

"I know you believe-"

"You trust him, I understand that now. That's fine and your choice. But I think you're aware he hates me. He hated my father, Sirius, and he takes that hatred out on me as well."

"There are reasons you are unaware of for Severus' anger Harry," his voice though resigned was filled with a silent entreaty for tolerance.

Harry would never reveal what he had seen in Snape's pensive but he knew the Marauders were horrid to Snape during the years they attended Hogwarts. Sirius' poor defense of them being kids didn't justify their behavior. It didn't excuse Snape either, for Harry had never known James Potter. So avenging himself on a dead man's son was daft.

"I also admit I didn't study Occlumency as well as I should have and the reason for Snape's refusal to instruct me further is my fault as well. But I was a fifteen year old who had Voldemort in his head, was being lied to by people I trusted and tortured by one of my instructors." He wasn't trying to deny his culpability but this was more than Snape was willing to admit to.

"Professor Snape is an adult who is in a position of authority over me and regularly takes advantage of that fact, regardless of who is around. He belittles me, degrades the memory of my father, especially when no one is around. You tell me who is truly at fault."

Judging from Dumbledore's expression, he realized there was truth to his words. "Professor Snape is a complicated man."

"Professor Snape is a bitter man and much of it is warranted. But he hated me on sight without even knowing anything about me other than I look like my father. You can stop trying to explain Professor Snape to me because I really don't care about him or his difficult life, or his _complications_. He doesn't care about me either. I don't have the luxury of being benevolent as you are."

Dumbledore inhaled deeply, folding his hands atop his desk. The customary twinkle in his eyes was diminished. A small frown played around the edges of his mouth. His demeanor of kindly grandfather figure was diminished. He was the epitome of the disappointed mentor. The illusion failed to impress Harry this time.

"Have things truly degenerated between us so, Harry? I know I have wronged you but is there no trust left?"

"I trust you sir." Dumbledore's face brightened at the admission but he probably should have waited until Harry completed his thought. "I trust that you wish the best for the Wizarding world and that you want Voldemort stopped."

"And for you Harry? Surely you know that I care for you as well."

"Yes, I know." In his way and as much as Dumbledore allowed himself to care for the person he was willing to sacrifice to win a war.

"Somehow I don't believe we are speaking of the same things."

"Probably not, Professor. If that's all, I really should get to class."

"Actually, I was hoping you wouldn't' be averse to accompanying me to a gathering this Sunday evening."

The Headmaster was inviting him to an Order meeting? Why?

"I said last year that I wouldn't keep things from you. I believe the best way to keep this promise is for your involvement with the war efforts to increase."

Did Harry truly want this? The Order was the only organization actively resisting Voldemort's efforts to take over the Wizarding world. They would have information he couldn't glean from the Prophet and he wouldn't' have to guess about what was going on. The Ministry would be just as ineffective as before as long as Fudge was in office and postured for the press and voters to save face for his actions last year.

"You wouldn't become an active member until you come of age but I believe it essential not only for you to be present but for the others to become accustomed to your attendance as you are the most vital factor to our war efforts."

"I have a meeting with a representative from Gringotts Sunday afternoon at one o'clock but we should be finished before dinner. Will that conflict with the meeting?"

"Mrs. Weasley is fond of assuring our attendees are well fed. Instead of dining in the Great Hall, we will head over then so you may be introduced in a less formal atmosphere.

He made a valiant attempt to conceal it but Harry could see Dumbledore's displeasure at the goblins coming to Hogwarts.

"That's fine."

"Good. I will speak with you again on Sunday. You should come to my office after the start of dinner hour. You may go to class now, Harry. Oh, and I hope Ms. Granger has a pleasant birthday."

"I will pass along your well wishes, sir."


	13. Chapter 13

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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* * *

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**Chapter Thirteen**

All day Harry felt the wind.

It danced against his skin. It gave a playful ruffle through his hair.

Whispered to him.

At first he thought someone had charmed a breeze to follow him but then he remembered his morning run and how he had been the only person out on the grounds so early. So unless someone lay in wait to cast the spell, this anomaly was natural.

Septima suggested he try to discern the answers himself when he had asked if she had any idea what was happening to him. Thankfully, she agreed to tell him the next afternoon before his session with Leo if he hadn't uncovered the truth by then.

If he wanted to have some information to give her tomorrow, he would have to grab something from the kitchens at lunch so he could spend that hour in the library. He had classes all morning and no free periods, so that would be his only opportunity to investigate. For tonight was his best friend's Coming of Age celebration. He couldn't believe how excited he was and the party was for Hermione.

Leo had come through with the Wizarding wireless for the party after the ceremony as well as a way for him to get Hermione's present. With the catalogue from Ockham's Treasures & Crafts, a store in Hogsmeade next to Dervish and Banges, Harry was able to owl order Hermione's birthday gift and her offering he would bestow to her during the ritual. Leo was also nice enough to purchase the outfit he wore and even accepted when Harry promised to pay him back.

Harry skipped dinner to dress, as he found most of the invited guests had, because of the meal the house elves were planning to serve. This meant he was forced to endure a mild inquisition with Ron when he questioned where the new clothes had come from. He really didn't understand Ron's problem. As his best friend, shouldn't Ron appreciate the fact that he wasn't forced to wear Dudley's oversized castoffs? Shouldn't he want Harry to look nice for his girlfriend's party?

Instead Ron had looked upon the tailored black trousers with disdain. The deep burgundy tunic he wore as an accompaniment was simple, structured almost like a jacket with its mandarin style collar resting just at the top of his thighs and split on the sides to prevent restriction of movement. The loose sleeves fell nicely over his hands concealing his wand holster and the silken material was embellished with gold trim, accentuating the way the material flowed across his slim body. It earned him a comment containing words like pretty boy and Malfoy.

Rather than remark on the almost spiteful glances Ron was sending in his direction, Harry left to check on the Room of Requirement. He need not have bothered.

It was perfect.

At first he thought to design a room with all of the usual birthday decorations he could remember seeing in the stores while shopping with Aunt Petunia for Dudley's parties. Then he remembered the room could give him whatever he wanted. It was a bastion of magic at his fingertips.

An outdoor gathering without the threat of weather or pests would be nice, he finally decided. A late summer evening just after twilight, when the stars sparkled bright in the deep indigo sky.

A park. No, a grove, he smiled as it formed around him. A small fairy grove and he was given deep fragrant green grass enclosed with trees in a horseshoe. Seven trees. Willow for love. Oak for strength. Hawthorn for peace. Ivy for healing. Reed for protection. Rowan for empowerment. And Holly. All reaching majestically toward the evening sky each would act as guardians for the Ceremony that would soon take place. The area in front of them was the perfect dimensions for the circle with room for the other guests to gather around and witness.

To complete the picturesque setting, the room provided several tables covered with crimson table cloths with sturdy golden plates and flatware with unadorned goblets for use during the meal. The tables and chairs were also arranged in a half circle with a head table for Hermione and Ron to sit.

Flowers bloomed everywhere in vases and containers of all shapes and sizes. Each was filled with blooms of red, white and gold, roses, carnations, calla lilies and tulips. All of Hermione's favorites. White candles intertwined with woodland styled arrangements as festive centerpieces on each table.

"It's beautiful Harry." Luna smiled as she slipped on the pale gold robe the room provided for the Ceremony. Afterwards, they would remove them for the party. She was the last guest to arrive as the others had taken their places near the salt circle that was surrounded by crimson candles.

Each guest had nearly the same compliment as they arrived and saw the setting he had arranged. Dean and Seamus ragged on him good but it was all good natured joking around.

"You shouldn't worry about the wrack spurt infestation later on. Hermione will still enjoy the evening."

There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Luna just knew things. It was up to the listener to interpret the true meaning of her sometimes nonsensical sounding words. If you were fortunate, sometime you did.

He closed the door, walking across the glade to the assembled students after Luna floated away. It had been easy to comprise the guest list; he simply invited the members of the DA who remained at Hogwarts. He had to call for attention a few times before they all settled down to listen. "First of all, I want to thank everyone for coming tonight." This brought on words of gratitude and delight before they quieted down again.

"The first part of our celebration will be a small ceremony. If Ginny, Neville, Luna and Susan could step forward. As 'Mione's friends, I would live to invite you to join the circle." Neville and Luna quickly moved forward, Susan was more hesitant but after a grin she stepped up. Ginny simply refused.

"What's wrong, Ginny?"

"What is all of this Harry? This doesn't feel right."

He expected a reaction but this definitely wasn't the one. Maybe a few questions of where he found the ceremony but not this outright distrust. "It's just a small ceremony. We'll all say some things we like about Hermione and then I'll give her a traditional coming of age gift and then I say a blessing and we'll share our magic and that's it."

"That doesn't sound simple. In fact, it sounds like something a dark wizard would do. Sharing magic." She frowned, "I've never heard of this ceremony. Mum and Dad didn't have a ceremony for Bill or Charlie or Percy when they turned seventeen. Not with the twins either."

"It's a blessing, Ginny," his original smile fading away to be replaced with annoyance. "It isn't dark and sharing magic won't hurt anyone."

"I'm not doing it," she folded her arms across her chest, obstinacy written all over her face. She had never looked more like her mother than in that moment when Molly Weasley was determined to force her way upon her children. "And you can be sure Ron won't participate either. What has happened to you Harry?"

It was with a heavy heart as he watched all of his plans begin to crumble. He tried to hide his hurt but Ginny's words had sliced open a painful wound. "I don't know what you mean."

"First you're pushing your friends away."

"Me?" No one could miss the incredulity in his voice. "I haven't pushed anyone away at all."

"You barely spend any time in the common room."

"I have detention for the month!"

"You don't walk down to breakfast with us any more," she went on as if he hadn't spoken.

"That's because I wake up at six!" He pointed out with heavy sarcasm.

"And that's another thing, you spend all of your time studying or doing those muggle exercises."

"Because it's important! I think you of all people should understand why it's important that I learn and prepare as much as I can."

Her implacable expression was unnerving. Eyes flat and unresponsive, mouth spread into a thin lipped twist. Everything about Ginny spoke of a bristling anger. Why on earth was she so upset with him? "That doesn't mean you ignore your friends."

"Ignore you? Ron and Hermione have been in their own little world from the beginning of the year. If anyone should be angry for feeling left out and ignored it should be me!"

"I'm not talking about them," she spat in a shrill tone.

"Then who are you talking about?"

Her face flushed almost as red as her hair then, she bit her lip giving no response. The silence almost choking. Harry glanced around at the faces of the others seeing mixtures of amusement, anger and outright pity.

Who did they pity? Him? Ginny? And what on earth would they feel sorry for them about? Then he had a memory of Blaise's words that night in the Astronomy tower. How some people expected him and Ginny to get together? No that couldn't be what Ginny was talking about. It was just like Hermione had told him, Ginny was supposed to be over that crush, not standing there acting as if he had spurned her affections out of spite. He certainly wasn't attracted to her that way!

He looked at her closed expression and it sent his own temper soaring. He was furious, quite frankly, seething that she would chose now in front of all of these people to have this confrontation. Not only was it inappropriate, but this was Hermione's birthday. This wasn't the proper venue for her to vent her emotions. And what did she think would happen by putting him on the spot? That he would give in to the pressure of his peers being present, fall in line and meekly ask to date her?

"Look Ginny," his tone still managed to be relatively civil despite of his anger, "If you don't want to participate, that's fine. I'm not going to force you. I thought as Hermione's friend you would see how wonderful this could be but," he broke off, nearly impotent in his rage. He needed seven people for the ceremony and without Ginny it wouldn't work.

"I'll help you Harry."

The soft but firm voice startled him from his inner thoughts. Harry looked up into the warm mocha gaze of Padma Patil and couldn't help the grin that curved eagerly across his face.

"Really?"

"I'm not really one of Hermione's closest friends but I think we get along well. We sit together in Ancient Runes and usually work together on assigned projects together."

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all. You'll find if you gaze closely enough, not everyone has a problem with the old ways."

Harry glanced around to see Pavarti, Terry Boot, Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbot all nod in agreement.

"No one believes in that pureblood rubbish anymore," Ginny countered with a heavy dose of censure in her tone.

"The old ways have nothing to do with the pureblood rhetoric those racist bastards promote." Terry Boot insisted as he stepped forward in protest. "As a half-blood and follower, I'm offended that you would suggest I believe in the same hatred they advocate. I'm even more offended on Harry's behalf that you would think he would do something so cruel to not only a muggle-born but to one of his closest friends!"

That only riled Ginny even more.

"Look this isn't why we're here tonight." He tried placating, before things went from bad to ridiculous. "It's Hermione's birthday and we've come together to celebrate the occasion. If you don't want to participate, you don't have to Ginny."

"Well I don't and I know Ron won't. Hopefully we can convince Hermione not to have anything to do with this either."

"Why are you trying to ruin Harry's plans?" Padma demanded, hands fisted at her hips in indignation on his behalf.

"Probably because he hasn't looked twice at her," Susan mutter and thankfully only he was close enough to hear. Ginny must have heard as well however, because she flushed a deep shed of red and bristled like a wet cat ready to strike out.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on the point of view, Ron and Hermione chose that moment to arrive.

"Look who I have," Ron announced guiding Hermione forward with a hand to her lower back. He was dressed in dark blue trousers and a shirt and vest in a lighter blue, matching Hermione's rich royal blue dress in color. She had straightened her wiry curls, so that the mink bronze hair could be pulled into a complicated chignon.

It seemed the couple had engaged in some pre-party snogging because Ron was yet again wearing a smug grin of enjoyment and Hermione blushed prettily.

"What's going on?" Hermione crossed the glade, immediately picking up on the tense atmosphere.

"Nothing."

Ginny was having none of his dissembling as she quickly explained what the argument was about. Ron proved her correct, instantly taking her side and shouting about pureblood beliefs and Harry changing. Everything was quickly spiraling out of control as others in the group either grew restless or offended and joined in the escalating argument.

"Fine!" Harry finally shouted, raising his hands into the air. "Fine! Shut up now, we get it Ron!" He drew in a deep breath trying to quiet a disintegrating calm as his naturally vicious temper strained for control.

"Look 'Mione, you know I love you right?"

"Of course Harry, I love you too," she placed a hand on his arm which he covered with one of his own. Ron took offense to the contact, wrapping an arm around Hermione's waist as if marking territory.

"If you don't want to perform the ceremony, we don't have to. I would never suggest doing anything offensive or hurtful to you Hermione, you have to know that."

She nodded and smiled though he could see the frown creasing her brow as Ron tugged her closer against him.

"So if you would feel more comfortable simply having dinner and moving on to the rest of the party, we can do that."

Her hesitancy said more than any words ever could. He didn't know if she believed the nonsense Ron and Ginny were screaming but he could see she was going to take her boyfriends side regardless.

"I guess that's settled then," he forced a smile, ending the conversation so he wouldn't' have to hear her take their side. That would have hurt more than Ron and Ginny's distrust ever could. The Room instantly followed his thoughts, removing the salt circle, candles, the small table in the center and the golden robes, leaving only the grassy glade and trees.

"Hogwarts House elves agreed to provide us with a great French dinner," he gave Hermione a small smile. "'Mione's favorite." Music poured into the room, a soft delightful sound at odds with the small pangs of hurt squeezing in his chest. "So I'd like you all to join me in wishing my best friend Hermione Jean Granger a Happy Birthday."

* * *

_**FSFSFS**_

* * *

He was not avoiding the castle.

At least that's what Blaise told himself. It was Thursday, Granger's Coming of Age ceremony would take place and he at least was honest enough to admit that avoiding contact with Harry's magic was the wisest choice for the time being.

Something had happened yesterday, something powerful enough to shake the castle down to its foundation. Malfoy was eager to crow about the Dark Lord having something to do with it but even he couldn't hide how the different threads of magic affected him. The poncy git had rushed off, probably to owl home everything that had happened.

Harry was involved somehow. The touch of the Gryffindor's magic was familiar now, thick pulsating energy filled with power and a purity that was almost humbling. And it made him want. He knew desire. He had experienced lust. Being around Harry made those emotions shallow and superficial in the face of the feelings aroused in him.

After the magic swept through the castle, he had spent the evening hard and longing, with no way to spend the aching need, for no substitute or his hand would ever satisfy.

Why was he drawn so to Harry? What was it about the little slip of Gryffindor that buried beneath a calm exterior and pushed him to take. To claim. He had only the barest memory of the feel of Harry's skin. Just a small caress against his face. The touch of Harry's hand, strong and capable beneath his. So why was he so focused on the man.

They had been alone together a total of three times and the brief minutes on the train to school really couldn't count for it was the first time they had ever spoken with each other. Yet in those instances, they had shared things with each other. There was honesty and dare he say trust. Both were the foundations of building not only a solid friendship but the basis of a relationship.

Is that what he wanted? A relationship with Harry Potter? It would endanger everything his family had built. The Zabini's could not claim neutrality while the heir loved Harry Potter, the Dark Lord's bitter enemy.

_Love? _

Where the hell had that come from?

He ran a hand down the front of his face, ignoring the growing chill in the air as he made his way back inside the castle. He didn't even know if Harry was attracted to men, or even him for that matter. For all Blaise knew, Harry could be planning to marry some Gryffindor girl after the war and settle down to have three children while running his newly discovered Potter estate. It was certainly what his own family expected of him.

"It doesn't help to be so involved in your thoughts that you forget your surroundings Lord Zabini."

Daphne and Tracey always seemed to find him when he needed them most. Each just as beautiful as usual, Daphne in a dark green jersey knit dress and Tracey in black trousers and strangely enough a pink turtleneck sweater. Their arms were looped together, as they often were if walking alone before releasing each other to come and linking with him on either side.

"I'm always aware of my surroundings," he told Daphne before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Oh, me, next," Tracey chuckled showing a much softer side than normally exposed in public, so he gave her one as well.

"So what are you two doing out here, it's getting late. You both know you should never walk through the halls alone." He trusted they were capable of taking care of themselves but then Slytherins were always easy targets for the other houses regardless of their political leanings.

"Avoiding the latest Malfoy confrontation," Tracey sighed heavily. "I don't know why they even bother. Malfoy's an arse, but he is quite capable of backing up those stupid threats of his."

"Malfoy senior would have ensured that," Daphne murmured. "It's the fact that quiet, unobtrusive Blaise Zabini managed to make him look like a fool they can't accept. So they believe that if Blaise can take down Malfoy, they should certainly be able to."

"Who's in the infirmary now?" He asked, wishing he never had allowed Malfoy to drag him into that confrontation in the first place.

"A seventh year. I forget his name, not all that important anyway. One minute he was bragging about defeating Malfoy so the Dark Lord would know how useless the family was and the next he was laying on the floor screaming in agony."

"What curse did the ponce use this time." The day before it had been bone breaking curses to the kneecaps and hands of some poor fifth year who had delusions of grandeur.

"The one he tried on you actually. Tossed the poor idiot across the room and into a wall. Professor Snape was furious this time, the boy had to be levitated to the infirmary. Probably broke his back." Tracey explained, without much sympathy. Then she had very little sympathy for those who were eager to join the Dark Lord especially when she hadn't heard from her father yet who had been sent out on one of the wizard's errands.

"So why are you out here alone," Daphne asked, raising those curious blue eyes to his.

"Who says I'm not avoiding Malfoy?" He didn't even bother to hide a grin at their burst of laughter. "I just needed to think, that's all."

"Think about Harry?" Tracey asked, going straight to the point. "Granger's coming of age ceremony is tonight. I wonder if she will be able to truly appreciate sharing magic with Harry." She closed her eyes and sighed in disappointment. For someone who could feel magic as clearly as Tracey, he could understand her dismay. Her reaction to the surge through the castle had to have been almost as potent as the one he experienced.

"Of course she won't," Daphne told her. "She has no idea the honor he's granting her. I'm sure Susan and the others will tell us about the Ceremony when we meet again." Her jaw clenched, tight and grim at her next words. "That isn't what concerns me tonight. It's all of these challenges against Malfoy." It was probably the reason she had brought up the subject in the first place. "He's been very arrogant this year, even more so than before. I would think with the disgrace of his father in Azkaban he would have changed but that isn't so."

"He's very quiet when he's not within the Slytherin dorms," Tracey pointed out. "I haven't even noticed him bothering Harry as much either."

"You're right," Blaise's brow creased with worry. He should have noticed this before but his preoccupation with Harry had prevented it. "A quiet Malfoy is never a good sign. We should probably keep an eye on him."

"A first year?" Tracey asked.

"With all the upper years challenging him it might be the only way to get information that he won't take offense to if they're discovered."

"With Malfoy's arrogance, he'll probably assume they want to be like him before he tries to kill them," Daphne snorted with amused contempt.

"I'll think on it for the time being. When I make a decision I'll let you know." He turned them in the direction of the dungeons but the girls halted, releasing their grip on his arms. "What's wrong?"

"I just happen to know that Granger's party is on the seventh floor," Daphne hummed, giving the pretense of innocence. "Pavarti and Lavender aren't very discrete when they're squealing about something. Especially a party thrown _by Harry Potter_." She finished in a high pitched imitation of Padma's twin sister.

Tracey grabbed Daphne's arm and began walking away. "You know where his little group used to meet last year? In the Come and Go room?" she smirked over her shoulder. "Don't worry, dear, we'll cover for you if you miss curfew."

"Tell Harry we said hello." Daphne chuckled and waved her fingers in farewell.

* * *

_**FSFSFS**_

* * *

It was a while before the celebratory atmosphere returned but after a delicious gourmet meal and continuous music the guests couldn't help but get into the spirit of the evening. The house elves had outdone themselves. The first course provided was a selection of appetizers, salmon tartar with feta cheese and mango, duck fois gras and a beet and apple salad with smoked duck. Next was a choice between a mixed salad with walnuts and a light vinaigrette or a delicious smoky butternut squash soup that Harry had definitely enjoyed.

The traditional Hogwarts fare was good, especially after several months of eating cold tinned soup or day old bread and water. But this was near ambrosia; no wonder Hermione loved French food so much.

The entrees selection included, cider roasted chicken breast with julienned carrot and zucchini sauté which he chose. A melt in the mouth sea bass fillet roasted with salmon butter with fennel was selected by Luna. Neville decided on the braised bison ribs with celeriac puree with goat cheese, while Hermione enjoyed a delicate shrimp and scallop risotto. Ron picked the grilled veal chops with gnocchi and ricotta, though Harry had seen him eating a little of everything.

The meal was followed the choice of a raw milk cheese plate as well as a burned custard glazed with orange and a chocolate mousse cake but was quickly outshined by the birthday cake. A four layer masterpiece each decorated to resemble one of Hermione's favorite books. The icing was light, the angel food cake center was moist and the berry filling naturally sweet.

Hermione's next words, "I knew I would never get you to read _Hogwarts, A History_, Ronald but I never thought you would eat it," brought peals of laughter from all of the guests.

For himself, the high of the evening had fallen, as he remembered the nasty words Ron and Ginny had yelled at him. Especially Ron's as he was supposed to be his best friend. Were they right? Had he changed so much? He wasn't trying to act like Malfoy like Ron claimed that much was certain. He didn't find a damned thing complimentary about that ferret-faced, foul mouthed bastard. But Harry had to admit, he had been distant from his friends lately. Not just because Ron and Hermione were so focused on each other.

Maybe he still blamed them for leaving him alone this summer to grieve, though he knew it wasn't their fault. They were following Dumbledore's orders. With Mrs. Weasley standing guard over Ron and Hermione's near devout respect for authority there was no way they could contact him.

'Well,' he thought as he sipped from his goblet of sparkling cider, 'The most important thing about tonight was Hermione enjoyed herself.'

He turned his gaze to others, as she danced with Ron. Such a pretty smile and soft giggles, he mused, pleased with her happiness. It was rare to see such a soft side to Hermione, as she always seemed so determined to be studious and valued for her intelligence and not her appearance. So his hurt feelings could stand to the side for the night.

"Sorry about the ceremony Harry." Susan had joined his and Neville and Luna's table, bringing a chair so she could sit. Joining her was Terry, Padma and Ernie who also wore conciliatory smiles.

"I didn't mean to aggravate Ginny," Terry shrugged in apology. "I just find that kind of small mindedness as bad as the purebloods that degrade muggle-borns."

"Ginny had worked up all of that anger long before tonight and the ceremony I wanted perform was merely a catalyst. She chose tonight where she knew she would achieve maximum effect."

"You have to know she did that because she likes you," Susan asked, her feelings about the matter, or her anger, was apparent.

"Rather awful way of demonstrating it, I would think," Neville replied placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"I've never given Ginny any inclination that I felt more for her than friendship."

"You didn't' have to," Padma told him. "Maybe she decided this would be the moment she would convince you to see her as more than a friend. More than your best friend's little sister."

"Some best friend," Ernie sneered. It was probably the first time Harry had seen such a harsh expression on the Hufflepuffs face. "I have had fights with Slytherins whose words weren't as cruel."

"That's just Ron's temper," harry felt obligated to defend.

"If you say so," Ernie relented, but not very convincing.

After a few moments of silence, Harry remembered to say, "Thanks for agreeing to take Ginny's place in the Ceremony, Padma. I know sharing magic is, well very intimate, so just, thank you."

"You're welcome," the Ravenclaw glanced at Susan who gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I have to admit, I did have ulterior motives."

He stared as complete surprise blanked his features. "Really? Why?"

"You see, I was hoping to convince you to join our study group on Wednesdays in the library."

"Study group?" Then he recalled the penned note in the front of the book Tracey gave him. He glanced first at Padma, then moved along each of them in query. "You all go?"

"Yes. Tracey told us she invited you to join us," Susan explained. "I know it isn't the same as studying with your friends but perhaps if you find yourself alone on Wednesdays you might consider joining us."

"What about my friends?"

"We would have to speak to the others first," Terry answered this time. "But I'm sure Neville and Luna would be welcome."

The words were said in such a way, he couldn't miss their meaning. Not Ron and Hermione or Ginny. Given everything that occurred tonight, it was understandable. Their study group on Wednesday undoubtedly used that time to focus on their Hogwarts assignments. What he also understood was that each of them was confirmed followers of the old ways and they were inviting him into their group.

Even Neville had confirmed his family observed the old traditions and he had seen Luna performing the morning blessing, so unless he was mistaken she did as well.

"I need to think about it for a while longer." It was a big decision and would definitely cause troubles between him and his friends.

He was still learning about the old ways. As a novice, there was much to gain knowledge of before he was comfortable seeking out peers. The book was a good resource and now that he knew Septima followed the old ways, he could see her as a mentor guiding him as he learned more.

"Well, you're always welcome." Susan smiled with understanding. "And if you like, Neville, Luna, we can speak with the others. Its always nicer to be amongst friends."

"Thank you," agreed, though he knew they would follow his lead when deciding whether or not to go.

_FSFSFS_

After the cake was served and more dancing Hermione opened her presents receiving mostly books as everyone knew how much she enjoyed learning. Ron's present was a new copy of Hogwarts, A History and a pair of small jeweled earrings. There were lots whistles and teasing as Hermione threw herself in his arms kissing him passionately. Ginny departed from the pattern as well gifting Hermione with a set of perfumed lotions in attractive glass bottles in a homemade basket.

"Mum helped me make them this summer," Ginny answered when Hermione asked where they were from.

Hermione opened a pale purple bottle, sniffing its contents and a smile of pleasure touched her lips. "Lavender, right? And I think I smell almond."

"That's probably from the oil base."

"I love it Ginny, thank you." The two hugged tightly, each content in the shared moment of happiness.

"So what did you get her Harry?" Neville asked bringing everyone's attention to him.

"Uh, well," he had already decided to give her the gift he had for the Ceremony but now that it was time, he was hesitant to cause another disruption to the party. So he decided to start with the birthday gift first. It was harmless and Ron and Ginny couldn't take offense.

"I have two gifts, really." He warned in advance, "The first, I got the idea from Professor Vector," he used the proper title because he was surrounded by so many of their classmates. Luna handed him a large square shaped box from the gift table. It was covered with dark blue wrapping paper and bows.

"What is it?" Hermione carefully pulled the package apart, exposing the black case that could only contain jewelry. Several feminine whispers of delight filled the air as she slowly opened the box. "Harry!" she gasped, a hand moving first to her lips then down to the contents.

"Well, Professor Vector always has on this necklace." He began explaining.

"I know the one you're talking about," Pavarti spoke up brightly, "The chain necklace with the beautiful teardrop shaped moonstone."

Hermione removed the necklace to reveal a thin chain that shimmered pale under the moonlight. He would never say it was made of mythril, as the metal was one of the most expensive and precious the goblins used when crafting jewelry. The catalogue from Ockham's had only listed the item, not even daring to mention how many galleons it would cost. Probably deciding if the customer needed to ask, then it was probably too expensive. The charm also of mythril and no larger than a infant's fist was shaped into a figure eight laying on it's side. The symbol for infinity.

"It's sturdier than it looks, so if you wanted to wear it you don't have to worry about it breaking. It comes with the usual charms and protections. It means, well, I just though-"

"Friends forever Harry," Hermione whispered through a blur of tears, reaching across the others to grasp his hand tightly.

"Yeah."

"Let me help you put it on," Lavender suggested, since Ginny who was sitting right next to Hermione hadn't offered.

"So what's this second gift, mate, 'cause that one was pretty spectacular."

"Ah, well, I was going to give this to you during," he stopped lifting his shoulder in defeat, as he knew she would know what he was talking about. He handed her a metal case, long and slender. It squeaked when she opened it to reveal a crystal wand. "You use this type of wand mostly with rituals or charms. There is a book in the case that explains it better, you just have to tap your other wand against it twice to enlarge it."

"It's lovely, Harry." When he grasped both her hands, she looked up at him in surprise, silencing the furious conversations going on around them.

"This is for your Coming of Age." Even if he didn't have the ceremony, he would share this last part of the rite with her. Share his magic with her. "I wish you the blessings of the Divine, Hermione Jean Granger. May you find peace, love and joy throughout your journey in life. Beloved friend. As I will it, so mote it be."

He hadn't expected the sudden surge of wind to stir around him. It circled the two of them like a zephyr, and then he could feel the warmth of his magic pulsating, flowing away from him and over to her. When she felt it her eyes widened in disbelief.

"So mote it be." Was chorused by those who followed the old ways.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I want to thank everyone again for the great reviews. They are appreciated very much. Here is my next chapter, I hope you like.

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.

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**Chapter Fourteen**

"Bloody Hell, Harry!"

The eruption was loud and furious. Ron's face was twisted into a snarl of rage, his fists strained at his sides as if poised to strike out in retaliation. Given the display his magic had just put on the reaction wasn't unexpected.

"Ron, please," Hermione tried to placate but the redhead wasn't hearing it.

"Did you forget whose girlfriend Hermione is or something?"

Harry grit his teeth against his own scalding wrath to avoid placing Hermione in the middle of an embarrassing scene. Rising on shaky legs, he dragged a resisting Ron back over to the circle of trees away from the guests so each could speak his peace.

When they were alone, he shoved Ron in the chest. "What is your problem? Do you have to behave like an arse all of the time or is this just for my benefit!"

"Me!" Ron looked positively appalled, returning the push with one of his own. "I'm not the bloke buying another guy's girlfriend expensive presents. I'm not even going to ask about the thing you did with your magic. I just want to know why you have to shove the fact you have money in everyone's face."

"What does having money have to do with you humiliating Hermione?"

"Humiliating?"

"Yes," Harry hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to over hear their conversation. "How do you think it makes her feel when you lose your temper in front of everyone? Over nothing!"

"I don't think what you did was nothing. I think you showing off in front of everyone is a very big something."

"Do you hear yourself? Do you ever try to think before you speak or do you believe that because we're best friends I'm supposed to allow you to insult me every time you're feeling insecure about yourself?"

"Ginny's right, you have changed." Ron snarled, rocking back on his heels and folding his arms. "And it's not for the better."

"Do you think you would be the same if your father died, Ron?"

"My father! What does my Dad have to do with anything?"

Harry closed his eyes and called upon every ounce of self control he could manage. It wasn't easy, not when his hand was itching to smack some sense into the fool. "Sirius died, Ron."

"I know that."

Harry knew his friend wasn't trying to be insensitive but given the precarious state of his own temper the sentiment wasn't quite as settling as it should have been. Merlin, he was tired of making allowances for Ron.

"We were there. That's why I don't understand why you've been acting this way."

"What way? Focused on my studies? Training for the War? When am I supposed to take the fact that Voldemort wants to kill me seriously? When he's standing before me with his wand pointed at my head casting the killing curse?"

"No! That's not what I meant. I mean, you're just not acting like Harry, the Harry who has been my best mate for five years."

He could only close his eyes as most of the rage that had threatened to overwhelm him was tempered by sorrow. "You just don't seem to understand. I'm not the same Harry. If I want to live, I can't afford to be."

"And what about the rest of us? Do we not matter? What are we supposed to do when you've changed so much? Are we supposed to just accept that you're going to act like those Slytherins now? Primping in the mornings and throwing money around. And what about Quidditch? You act like you don't even want to play this year. Where does that leave us?"

"Leave you? You might start by realizing not everything is about you!" He regretted the words the instant they were said. Any progress he might have been making was quickly tossed aside by the poorly spoken words.

"Oh, but of course. It's all about Harry Bloody Potter, right?"

"What I meant to say, is that not everything I do is meant to affect you." For some reason that only made Ron angrier. He threw his hands in the air, at a loss at how to communicate with the boy who had been his best friend for over five years. "What do you want from me, Ron?"

"You can start by not buying my girlfriend inappropriate gifts. That would be a big help."

"I think we have different ideals of what is considered inappropriate." Harry shook his head in annoyance. He shouldn't have to explain to Ron that he felt nothing more for Hermione than the bonds of friendship. Even if he had, it was certainly disrespectful to Hermione to think she would commit herself to a relationship with one person, and then behave improperly with her boyfriend's best friend.

"I bought her a necklace for her birthday. For five years Hermione has stood by me, through trials and tribulations that could have gotten her killed. Yes, she nags and she's bossy. She has a mothering streak that rivals your Mum's and she has major issues about rebelling against authority. But when I need her, she's always been there. Even to tell me the things I don't want to hear."

This wasn't exactly news, and if Ron was uncomfortable with the fact that Harry was bringing up issues that made him feel guilty, it was just too bad. It needed to be said. "I probably wouldn't be alive if Hermione hadn't stood by me, so if I want to buy her a birthday gift to show how much I appreciate her, then I will."

"And what about the rest of us? Or shouldn't I be concerned about another bloke buying things for my girlfriend that I can't."

"Oh, just shut up, will you? Shut up!"

"Wha-"

"You're my best friend Ron but I swear I'm sick to death of you and your obsession with the stupid trust fund my dead parents set up for me."

Blue eyes narrowed and hardened an instant before shifting away. Every thing about Ron became defensive, from his stiffened shoulders and stance to the way his mouth twisted into a near snarl.

"Being your best friend doesn't entitle you to take your anger and insecurities out on me. Being your best friend doesn't mean you can rail at me the way you do every time I spend a galleon."

"You just don't understand. How can you?"

"If I didn't understand, I would have punched you out a long time ago." Harry quirked a brow at the clear surprise on Ron's face, hoping for once they could clear the air between them and get past these petty arguments over things he had no control over.

"Understanding is one thing. Just like I've changed, you're going to have to grow up. There are so many things that have happened this year that I needed to tell my best friend but I couldn't because I had to worry about how you would react."

"What do you mean by that? You're keeping secrets from us?"

"They're not exactly secrets; I'm just not sure I can trust that you won't overreact-"

"Trust me? Oh, you can trust me to follow you to the Department of Mysteries but not with these new so called secrets."

"If you're going to act the way you have every time I buy some stupid clothes, or a present for 'Mione, well yeah."

"I can't believe you don't trust me after everything we've been through together!"

"I know I can depend on you, Ron, I'm not saying that at all. But that's just the thing; those are life and death situations. One day, I hope with all of my heart, there will be a time Voldemort isn't such a big part of my life. What will happen between us then? The day I'm ready to buy a new house or if I decide on something in my life that you don't necessarily agree with. What happens then? Will you turn on me like you and Ginny did this afternoon?"

"That's different; you were talking about some dark magic rituals."

"You know me Ron. Would I ever do anything to deliberately cause Hermione harm?"

"Mum and Dad don't hold with the old ways, Harry. They're too tied up in all those pureblood traditions and you know how our family feels about that. And then you want me and Ginny to go against what our parents believe and then to drag my girlfriend into it. And you say you haven't changed?"

"I don't understand what's so wrong with them, Ron."

"Blessings? Rituals involving who knows what? How can you not see what's wrong with them. And none of our friends, no true Gryffindors would ever follow those beliefs."

"Do you even know about the old ways Ron? Other than what your parents have told you anyway?"

"What more is there to know?"

Harry choked back a grunt of disbelief, "So you're saying Neville is wrong. Or Padma. Or Susan Bones. Or Terry Boot, he's not a pureblood and he believes."

"Neville's different. He's so cowed by his Grandmother he wouldn't dare go against anything she said. You don't see Dean and Seamus going around doing it!"

"I don't know about Seamus, or what he thinks, mostly because he hasn't said anything but Dean he's a muggle-born, he might not even know about the old ways. That's how it is with most muggle-borns. And it's not just purebloods; I've seen half-bloods in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff in the mornings."

"Well I haven't and they're probably doing it in secret because they don't want anyone else to know they're involved in that stuff. And who told you about it anyway? I know Dumbledore didn't, he's a light wizard and would never advocate the old pureblood traditions. So who have you been talking to about this stuff?"

"It doesn't matter," he lied because telling Ron about Tracey was just asking for trouble. If he hadn't read the book, he wouldn't have found out about his family and Dumbledore wasn't exactly the person to hold up as an upholder of goodness and truth after the things he had kept from Harry.

"Of course it matters; I want to know who is trying to corrupt my best friend."

"Corrupt? Now you're being stupid."

"So if it's so stupid, then tell me."

"I can't."

"Why not!"

"Because it doesn't concern you!" He roared, fed up with being antagonized. This was getting him no where. The argument had started with him trying to get Ron to see how immature he was being over something as pointless as money and then turned to things he wasn't ready to divulge to his friends yet. This meant, he had failed and the conversation was becoming pointless.

When had he decided that talking with his best friend was pointless? Did they only focus on superficial things like sports and school with the occasional diversion into danger and saving the world? Wha would come of those quiet moments after the danger had passed? Would he find he had nothing in common with Ron anymore?

"Maybe we should just cool off and head back to the party. I'm sure Hermione's worried we're going to start brawling over here." The forced brevity fell flat, as did the smile he tried to offer up in penance.

"What does that mean? Why don't you trust me enough to tell the truth?" Ron pointed behind him to the other guests at the part and waved an impatient hand at the table where he had sat. "Could you tell Neville the truth? He's a good little traditionalist. What is he your best mate now?"

"No but Neville is a good friend."

"And I'm just tossed aside right? After everything my family has done, the things we've been through, you just cast us aside. You have no idea what it's like being your friend sometimes. Last year you were all broody and angry and we are supposed to just forgive you but don't give you exactly what you want and you cast us aside like rubbish."

There was a small ring of truth to Ron's harsh words because he had behaved that way last year; he had dragged them into Voldemort's trap. But he wasn't trying to cast his friends aside; he just wanted Ron to stop acting so foolish about something as trite as money. There were things much more important. Ron had a family who loved him and couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that no amount of galleons could ever replace that.

"Do you have any idea how tiring it is to hear about the boy-who-lived? How I should be honored that such a powerful Lord is my best friend."

"What did you say?"

"What?" He seemed to realize he had said something he shouldn't have.

"What. Did. You say?"

"Nothing, I was complaining mate, that's all. You know I didn't mean anything by it."

"Oh, we'll get back to your complaints about the boy-who-lived, I won't forget those. I'm talking about the other thing you said." He frowned at the realization unfurling like poison in his gut. "You bastard."

How could his so called best mate lie about something so big?

"I don't know what you're talking about Harry."

His mind flashed over the years, the many conversations they had, all the way back to the first one where Ron had seemed so happy to be actually meeting Harry Potter, scar and all. To the way his family had welcomed him. Had it all been because of his inheritance? No, they were too sincere; it couldn't have been all just a lie.

"Fourth year," he remembered with a pang, "That's when you changed. Started acting hateful. I could see not mentioning it when we were younger, we were kids and that kind of stuff only matters to prats like Malfoy. It was during fourth year when we returned to Hogwarts that had your knickers in such a twist."

"Hey now, that's not fair."

Harry took slow steps forward, crowding into Ron's personal space, and his magic sparking in tandem with the rage pulsing through his veins. "Why did you keep it from me?"

Ron stumbled back a few steps before raising his arms in defense and holding his ground. "Mate, I told you, I don't know anything."

"Who told you to keep it from me?" He grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down hard. "Who told you, goddamnit, WHO!"

"Harry mate, calm down, I have no idea," the other's voice trembled in desperation.

"The Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter." He sneered quietly right in his face. "Is that ringing any bells Ronald Weasley?"

What more could Ron say. The guilt on his face spoke louder than words ever would. "I'm sorry," Ron whispered, closing his eyes in surrender. Sickened, Harry shoved him away, not able to stand touching him any longer.

"I don't know why I didn't think of it before now. You come from a pureblood family. Though you don't hold to those _'traditional values'_," he spat out. "Of course you would know. But the point is that you didn't tell me. You knew I had no idea and you didn't tell me."

"Harry, I'm sorry."

"I don't want your sorry. I want to know why you never said anything. You know how desperate I've been to find out anything about my parents. My family!" He shouted, "Why would you keep something so important from me? Why damn you!"

"Dumbledore asked us to, alright. It was Dumbledore."

It hurt, this betrayal, deeper than the insults and cruel words Ron tossed around sometimes without thinking, or considering the feelings he could hurt so carelessly. "How could you not tell me," he whispered.

"Dumbledore came to our house the summer before fourth year. Right before we came to get you for the Quidditch World Cup. I kept asking why you had to live with your relatives, when you were a Lord. I kept remember those bars on your window and how they dressed you. I know my family is poor, and I couldn't understand why you acted as if you didn't even know you were the Lord of a great house."

Ron might have understood his family was poor at eleven and he might not have appreciated it but he would have thrived in the loving home Molly and Arthur Weasley provided their family. Understanding about money was something most kids didn't get until they were exposed to others who had it on a regular basis

Exposed to the bias of kids like Malfoy who teased and taunted.

"That's when Dumbledore showed up. He asked us not to bother you with stuff about your house. Said it wouldn't be fair to burden you with those kinds of responsibilities, especially when it was important that you stay with your relatives. You know how Mum is. She never would have hurt you on purpose. Dumbledore believed telling you would hurt you, so she made me promise not to say anything."

Of course that's the way Mrs. Weasley would react. She trusted Dumbledore to always do the right thing. If keeping the truth from him would protect him, she would agree because her mother's protective instincts would allow nothing else. She was overprotective with all of her children, as if they were still eleven years old. Even Charlie, who worked with Dragons in Romania and perfectly capable of taking care of himself wasn't exempt.

"Does Hermione know that I didn't have a clue?"

"No. But she's really careful not to mention it around you."

"Bloody Hell." He ran a shaking hand through his hair, his magic needing release to hurt the ones who was causing him such pain and unsatisfied with his restraint.

"It's not like that, Harry. She doesn't bring it up because she thinks it's too painful for you and that's why you don't talk about it. Dumbledore hasn't said anything to her that I know of." He shrugged, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Uh, Harry. When did you find out?"

"A few days ago. Blaise Zabini asked why I wasn't wearing my ring and when I had no idea what he was talking about he told me."

Dumbledore had taken a great risk in believing everyone would simply assume he knew about his family. He wouldn't put it past the wizard to have carefully placed the word about that Harry shouldn't be confronted about his family. He spoke with the Weasleys to ensure Ron's silence because they were best friends. No one else at Hogwarts really knew much about his life. Even Snape believed a lie. No one would doubt the word of Dumbledore, as his reputation of a powerful and trustworthy light wizard ensured it.

"Zabini! Why are you hanging around that slimy snake? He's probably just waiting to betray you to you-know-who when you're least expecting it!"

"You know," he began with a calm he did not feel, "For someone who has kept a secret about my life for the past five years, you really don't want to start throwing words around like betrayal."

"And you're comparing me to a Slytherin? Well tell me how you really feel."

He knew Ron wasn't asking but he did anyway. "I'm pissed. That's how I feel, Ron. Fourth year you treated me like shite over something I didn't know about and didn't have control over. And since then you still throw out the occasional snide remark."

"I just-"

"I've heard your justifications and as much as I hate that you did this, I can respect that you didn't go against the promise you made to your parents. I don't like it but I respect it. If I'm capable of that, then you're going to have to learn to do the same for me."

"I do respect you."

"Then it will be very easy for you to think before you speak won't it because people who respect each other, don't go around insulting their friends. I'm not excusing your behavior anymore."

Ron nodded quickly, accepting his conditions. "Right."

"Why don't you head back over, the party's almost over and 'Mione looks like she's starting to get worried."

"Alright," he turned to go back but stopped and looked over his shoulder, "I am sorry for not telling you Harry."

He waved Ron away, giving a grin that he didn't feel, needing time alone before returning to the others. Eventually he would have to think about what it meant that Ron could keep something so important from him and then use the hidden information as a reason to hurt him. Right now it was still too fresh, too painful, to know the person he trusted had betrayed him.

Yes, he was keeping secrets but they were his secrets, affecting only his life.

And after all he had learned, he was no longer surprised to uncover Dumbledore's role. The man was so focused on saving the Wizarding world from Voldemort that he didn't care the harm he was causing Harry. Voldemort had marked him as his equal and though Dumbledore claimed he wanted Harry to have a childhood before facing the ugliness of Wizarding society he went about it in the worst way.

Growing up as he had with the Dursleys, he should know better than to trust so easily. When he entered the Hogwarts, there had strangely been some small sliver of naïveté remaining. Despite everything he had learned and endured there was the small childish hope for acceptance.

Five years later, filled with good memories and bad, truths and betrayals, life and death his only regrets were the lives lost because of the secrets and shadows perpetuated to maintain this so called innocence. An innocence that was forsaken many years ago when a young boy was locked away in a cupboard under the stairs in the dark, crying for food.

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_FSFSFS_

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The last thing he should be doing with only thirty minutes until curfew would be standing in front of the Come and Go room trying to decide whether or not he was losing his mind for giving in to the urge to see Harry Potter. Daphne and Tracey knew him too well. He never would have come if they hadn't placed the idea before him. As easy as it was for him to ascertain information, he had purposefully kept himself in the dark regarding the location of Granger's Coming of Age party.

Now here he stood in the shadows watching the guests file out of the room, each one smiling as they murmured about how much the evening had been enjoyed. Grasped in each hand was a small crimson and gold bag containing the usual departing gift most likely. Blaise wondered what Harry had chosen to give. Given Weasley's reaction to anything involving money, a traditional sweet that could be enjoyed later on.

"You should go see him."

He glanced down into the wide eyes of Luna Lovegood, not bothering to wonder how the ethereal girl had inched past his defenses without notice. He wasn't as blind as other Hogwarts students and could see a girl touched with the gift of sight who struggled to remain a part of this world and not the visions she was bombarded with.

"Perhaps."

"He's had a difficult evening, despite his denials. You might want to know, there was no Ceremony tonight."

The murmured revelation gave him pause. Even for the short amount of time he had spoken to Harry about the party that night in the tower, he knew Harry had been excited. What could have happened to change all of that?

"And why would I find that information interesting?"

"Blaise Zabini finds all information interesting." She answered in a sing-song voice. "But, I think he finds information about the Potter Lord even more so."

"I don't need rumors spreading, little seer," he warned carefully. He meant her no harm but he wouldn't allow others to know of his interest in Harry until they both were prepared for that knowledge to be available. "Mind yourself."

To which he received a whimsical giggle that brought forth a small smile despite himself. It was hard to threaten the girl when she was the very embodiment of light. "I'll always look out for Harrigan's best interests. You should know this now."

"What have you seen?"

"War. It comes. It brings death and blood." Her voice gradually took on a faraway quality, the beginnings of an opaque film spreading over her eyes. The echo sent a chill down his spine. "Blood and death. Sorrow and pain. Unless things change Harrigan will fall. Fall alone. The end of the Lord."

He gripped her shoulder giving it a brisk shake before she could fall completely into the vision. "How do I stop it?"

"Twelve must stand with Harrigan as the nexus." She blinked, a tremor shaking her slim frail body. The iron control she imposed on herself impressed him immensely. Despite the fear in her gaze, there was strength and a steadfast determination to protect her friend. He did not need to hear the words to know she would be one of those twelve. "That's all I know. That's all I see. It's all I've ever seen from the first moment he spoke to me."

"When?"

"I cannot tell you what I don't know." She sighed, placing a hand on top of his, her visage falling once more into otherworldly lethargy. "You should go to him." She repeated once again.

"Luna, there you are." Longbottom called out, relief clear on his face as he started in their direction carrying two small gift bags. "Zabini." He greeted with a slight incline of his head. Blaise could see the questions Neville dare not ask. Instead, the Gryffindor took Lovegood's arm and tucked it gently into the crook of his own. "Let's get you back to Ravenclaw dorms, Luna."

"Of course, Neville. I did so enjoy the evening, especially dancing with you, though perhaps those wrackspurts could have been more considerate and left some cake at the end. It was quite tasty."

"Zabini." Neville said before turning to walk away. Ever the protective Gryffindor, Blaise thought with mild humor. Longbottom had come a long way from the boy who was terrified of Professor Snape. He would be underestimated due to his quiet nature, the direct opposite of the brashness of the Weasley brand of Gryffindor bravery. Blaise might not be as talented as Tracey in sensing ability but Longbottom had a rich magic that spoke of a long follower of the old ways. The Dowager Longbottom would have assured his education in the traditions.

Should he go see Harry? Before he could make a decision, Weasley and Granger exited the room absorbed in each other, though Granger at least had the sense to glance around to take in her surroundings. Years of dwelling in shadows would keep her eyes from his presence but not many at Hogwarts was as experienced.

"We should wait for Harry," she said, looking back at the door that had yet to close. "I can tell something was bothering him. What did the two of you argue about, anyway?"

"Nothing," Weasley shrugged, wrapping and arm around her shoulders leading her away from the room despite her lukewarm protests. "We should go spend some time alone. The party was fun but I wanted to spend the night with you."

"Ron, I enjoyed the party. It was fun and we actually had a chance to spend sometime with Harry."

"Can we stop talking about Harry for a while."

The edge in his voice must have roused her suspicions even further, for she halted and stepped away from the boy who was trying to snuggle against her. "Now I know something is wrong."

"Look, I just want to spend some time with you alone before we have to rush off for prefect duties and dealing with curfew. Nothing happened between me and Harry."

"Well, alright." She relented, her disbelief was obvious but her desire to spend that time alone with her boyfriend outweighed her need to know the truth. It was understandable, from everything he had observed about Granger, Weasley was probably the bookworm's first boyfriend and that first brush of love tended to be powerful. Powerful enough that a friendship could be set briefly to the side. At least until the first glow dimmed.

Weasley and Harry had an argument, proven by the way the boy would stiffen whenever Granger referred to Harry. Even more obvious was he didn't want his girlfriend to discover what the quarrel had been about as he probably had been the one at fault. Blaise might not like Granger's personality or her tendency to smother Harry but when she discovered the truth, he didn't pity Weasley her reaction.

He waited until they turned the corner before grasping the handle of the door before it closed completely and tugged it open. The warm aroma of flowers and trees greeted his senses as he took in the late summer evening Harry had created for Granger's party. It was very beautiful and inviting, everything a Coming of Age ceremony should be. The door closed behind him and Blaise became aware of the music filtering into the air. It was a poignant Celtic melody, filled with haunting flutes and violins.

The man he sought stood before a small pond, a different sight than one he was accustomed to. This Harry stood confident in a rich tunic that lay temptingly across his lean torso and black trousers that emphasized the strength in his legs, the slimness of his hips. The wayward hair that was the Potter trademark was longer than his usual, falling forward to shield his face as he glanced down into the water's depths. Drawn to him by a force he dare not name, Blaise halted finally at his side, not bothering to announce his presence for he knew Harry had known he was with him the moment he entered through the door.

"How was your celebration?" Luna told him Harry was upset but he wouldn't assume anything. Instead he would allow the other the opportunity to divulge what he wished.

"There was no," Harry stopped, running a hand through those messy locks before shoving it back down into his pocket. "It was good. Hermione enjoyed herself. That's what was most important."

"You don't look very pleased."

Instead of answering the unasked question Harry said, "Tell me more about the old ways, I know you follow them. You know Tracey gave me that book. I need you to tell me more about them, to explain why my friends had such a bad reaction to the Coming of Age ceremony I wanted to perform for Hermione."

They had hurt him, Blaise realized, with their careless words and actions. They had taken something Harry was coming to believe in and lessened that joy for him. It was the reason children were raised with those traditions and why it was so difficult to find the path when you were set upon it late in life. It pissed him off because they hurt Harry.

"We believe magic is more than spells and potions. It is a way of life, enriched and blessed by the Divine. Magic is the very personification of powers and elements and it is only with the intimacy gained through trust that we can bond to the truest depths of our magic. A follower of the old ways seeks not only knowledge but connection with our magic through love, healing, sexuality, divination, and protection."

"So why do they think only Dark wizards or purebloods follow the old ways?"

"Because, usually we are the only ones who remember them. It is the basis of the arguments against muggle-borns. They think Wizarding society is losing those traditions as we incorporate more muggle-borns into our world. That muggle-borns are indoctrinated with muggle superstitions and beliefs, and seek to impose them on other witches and wizards. When instead we should be teaching them instead, so our ways aren't lost."

"But Ron and Ginny come from a pureblood family," Harry argued, "And they said their parents don't believe."

"I can't tell you when the Weasley family parted from the old ways. They are a pureblood family but Harry you have to remember, the old ways go back several generations. They aren't an Ancient family, so at some point, it is possible that a muggle-born married into their family and affected their beliefs. Or perhaps they were forced to stop practicing the old ways as a means of survival during the witch hunts."

Blaise chose his words carefully, for he didn't want to Harry to misunderstand. "I have nothing against muggles Harry. I can appreciate their world and the things in it but I'm a wizard and I belong here and they belong there. I would never want our kind to mingle because it is the nature of man to fear what they don't understand. And how could they ever understand magic when they don't have it. That fear can turn to anger and the need to destroy."

"But there are some Dark wizards who still practice the old ways," harry gave him a careful glance.

"There are Dark wizards who don't, just as there are light wizards who still do, like the Longbottom family for instance."

"And Luna," Harry murmured, nodding in agreement then falling silent again.

Blaise couldn't say how long they stood next to each other simply gazing down into the water and enjoying the music and the ease of the others company. It was obvious his friends' actions lay heavy on Harry's mind but he hoped his words concerning the old ways were taken into consideration before Harry made any final decisions.

"I should thank you for telling me the truth." Though quiet, Harry's voice was strong and his gaze remained on the pond. Blaise didn't need him to explain what he meant for there was only one truth he had given Harry recently. Only one that would cause him so much pain. "Not many believe I'm entitled to that these days."

Blaise didn't know what to say, so he placed a hand on his shoulder in silent comfort to the melancholy aura Harry emitted. "When my father died, I was a mere babe. All I knew of him were the stories my Grandfather gave me, the memories my mother shared with me."

They watched the pond a while longer, Blaise noting the small flickers of light that danced just beneath the surface. He wondered if this was something Harry had created or simply the magic of the room. Either way it's beauty was soothing.

"That's all I've ever wanted." A moment of tension bunched in the muscle beneath his fingertips, then relaxed. "My relatives told me my parents died in a car accident. My uncle called my father an unemployed drunkard and my mother a woman with loose morals. When my cousin wasn't around, he didn't bother with the pretty language and simply called her a whore."

Harry turned his head to the side letting him see the vulnerability in his gaze. "That's what I grew up hearing and then I turn eleven and I'm brought to the Wizarding world and learn they're lauded as heroes. But there are more lies, only these are of a kinder nature, meant to be of comfort to me I suppose, until I'm old enough to handle the truth."

A hand fisted in frustration, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he grit back what Blaise knew to be harsh words. "I just wanted to know my family. About where I come from," the hand swept out in disgust. "Is that so much to ask?"

"No." It was wrong that he was denied his heritage. "Perhaps it would have been better had I said nothing."

"So that I could continue on in ignorance? The Wizarding world wants their Savior but only on their terms. Well I'm sick of it! I'm sick of the lies and the half-truths and outright deceptions. Why should I sacrifice myself for them!" He spat, jerking away and gesturing wildly. "What have they given me but malice and pain?"

"I don't know," he had no answers. But he could give Harry the truth his Grandfather had always told him. "Perhaps," he closed the distance between them, taking both lean shoulders in his hands to stare down in verdant eyes swimming with pain and tears. "Perhaps because it falls to the strong to defend the weak. It is the responsibility of the Ancient and Noble Houses to protect all of Wizarding kind. We were not named so because of our wealth or position or the purity of our blood. We were named so because of our duty to magic and the Divine."

"I'm not strong," the Gryffindor's voice broke on those words. "I'm just Harry. Just me."

Blaise grasped the sides of his face, smiling with an honesty only those who knew him best ever saw. "You are one of the most powerful wizards I've ever met."

"I'm not."

"If you trust in nothing else, trust in yourself, Harry. I know you've felt the magic within you."

"Why are you here? What do you want from me?" He stepped away, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. "Everyone wants something from me, so what is it that you want?"

"Ask me again sometime."

Harry shook his head, "No, you said that once before. So I'm asking now. Tell me the truth."

Blaise touched his cheek in a wistful gesture, wiping away the tear that had defied command to make its way down the side of Harry's face. "Are you certain you want to know?"

"Yes."

Fingers slid into thick hair, enjoying their silken texture against his skin, as he cradled the back of Harry's head. Harry blinked, obviously torn with conflicting emotions. Hands came to rest against his chest, as though he would be pushed away but clenched briefly instead. Encouraged, Blaise allowed an arm to slip around his waist, tugging Harry closer and knowing they would fit together perfectly.

"What are you doing?" The shaky whisper was warm against his face. He could see the racing pulse at the base of Harry's neck, betraying the nerves the Gryffindor was feeling.

Blaise tilted his head a little, his hooded eyes focused on Harry's lips, brushed his against them, a light tease. He kissed him gently enjoying the feel of Harry's mouth against his. He didn't dare give in to the urge to kiss him as he would like. Hard and insistent. Devouring. Savoring the spice of him on his tongue. Sucking softly on that lower lip that was a sensual temptation.

He took advantage of the soft gasp of surprised pleasure Harry released. Just once, Blaise vowed, allowing his tongue one sweep into the inviting depths of Harry's mouth. He tasted the hint of sparkling cider and soft mint lingering on his tongue. The breathless moan Harry released hit him straight in the groin, an unexpected punch of heat.

With a rough growl of frustration Blaise stepped away, sliding his arm free from the toned back he had been caressing. Harry opened eyes that were filled with a mixture of confusion and unexpected desire. A shaky hand touched trembling lips and though he looked like he wanted to say something, Harry didn't quite find the words.

"Now you know."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you for the wonderful and thoughtful reviews. All were greatly appreciated and inspiring. I am sorry for the delay on this chapter it's been a rather busy week. There will be more Harry/Blaise in the next chapter. **

**Hope you like.**

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts related to the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

When Neville walked back into the Gryffindor boy's dorm after lunch, he was mildly surprised to find Harry sitting on the edge of his bed surrounded by all the clothing he owned and the armoire normally containing those clothes bare. He had noticed the other boy missing from the afternoon meal but it wasn't unusual for students to pass on the Sunday lunch if they wanted to sleep in. Ron and Hermione had been at the table, unusually quiet.

Neville noticed the two had been especially distant from Harry since Hermione's birthday and concluded something must have happened between Ron and Harry when they had stood to the side speaking with furious gestures and words that no one could hear. In fact, Neville heard Harry didn't sit with them during the classes they shared on Friday, sticking to the back of the class and exiting immediately after the bell rang.

Whatever the problem was the trio hadn't resolved it by the weekend either. While the three didn't spend all of their time together like they used to, this time Harry had avoided them all together.

He could tell by the way Harry hands tugged on his hair that he was frustrated about something. Only, what did his clothes have to do with it.

"Is something wrong, Harry," he offered tentatively not wanting to intrude on the other's privacy. Harry must have been deep in thought because his head jerked up, startled, just as his wand was slipping into his hand. The movement was executed with perfect ease, as if Harry had done it many times before.

"Neville!" He looked a little sheepish as he put the wand away with a flick of his hand. "Sorry, didn't see you there mate."

"No worries. I didn't want to disturb you but you looked like you had a lot on your mind and I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help."

"No, there really isn't anything you can do unless you can get me a complete wardrobe in time for my meeting with the goblins from Gringotts in the next hour."

"Well, I can't get you an entire wardrobe, but you're welcome to anything in mine that fits."

Harry frowned and Neville could hear the thoughts rushing through his head. While Harry did have a growth spurt this past summer, so had Neville and he was much taller than Harry's mild five foot ten inch frame. The only Gryffindor who rivaled him in height in their year was Ron. Not only was Neville taller but he was broader through the shoulders in chest as well. All those weeks spent toiling in the Longbottom greenhouses had begun to show fruition this summer. Whereas Harry had a leaner form, whipcord thin but lined with taut defined muscle.

"Thanks for the offer Neville," Harry sighed, "I probably should have ordered something from Gladrags while I was purchasing Hermione's gift."

"No really," he walked over to his own personal armoire and swung the doors open wide. "I can help if you like. Whimsy?" He snapped his fingers after the summoning and less than a second later, the house elf appeared in the room.

"What can Whimsy do for Master Neville?"

Contrary to Hermione's belief that all house elves were abused slaves, Neville could state with complete sincerity that his family had never treated the loyal creatures with anything less than the respect they deserved. Whimsy proudly wore the house of Longbottom colors as she had for as long as he had known her. Instead of the usual tea towel, her toga styled dress was a rich navy trimmed in silver along the edges with the Longbottom coat of arms just below the right shoulder.

"Whimsy, I'd like you to meet my friend Lord Harry Potter. Harry, this is my valet Whimsy. She's been with me since I was eleven years old and I'd be lost without her I believe."

She preened under the compliment, not offering any rebuttal, for his words had been the truth. Though this was the first year he was allowed to bring her to Hogwarts, Whimsy had been a constant companion during his difficult transition years when he began learning to take the reins of his house. As a result, her English was better than the typical house elf and she was much more outgoing.

"Hello Whimsy, it's very nice to meet you."

"Whimsies honored to meet the great wizard Master Potter, sir. Dobby tells us house elves all 'bout how the great Master Potter helps free him from bad Masters."

"Dobby's a good friend of mine. And please you can call me Harry."

Harry reached out a hand for her to shake in greeting which made Neville grin. Whimsy looked at it in surprise, as most people weren't likely to offer a servant their hand in greeting as an equal. This was merely another aspect of Harry's character that endeared him to so many. She looked to him for permission and of course he granted it. Slowly she reached out to grasp Harry's hand with her thin fingers to shake and smiled.

"Dobby is right 'bout Master Harry. Hes great wizard. What can Whimsies do for Master Neville and Master Harry?"

"Well you see Harry here has an important meeting with Gringotts this afternoon. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the appropriate attire. I offered him the use of my dress robes but they're going to need some alterations, so I was hoping you might be able to help."

"This I's can do." The little elf nodded eagerly. "First," she frowned at the clutter on Harry's bed, then snapped her fingers sending the clothing back into the armoire on its proper hangers and folded neatly on shelves. "Better."

Harry grinned, "I suppose that was a bit of a mess. Thank you Whimsy."

"Now lets see." Whimsy was already tapping the side of her face in deep contemplation at which Harry blinked nervously at him. "Come, come, Master Harry. Yous must stand straight now." She snapped her fingers and her measuring tape appeared and began its furious assessments of Harry's body. During this Harry looked both amused and startled, especially when the quick snapping tape gauged his inseam. All the while Whimsy hummed her usual nonsencial melody she used when deep in thought.

Finished, the tape snapped together and disappeared. "I's think dark green suits Master Harry."

From the back of his armoire floated dark forest green dress robes that Neville had only worn once. The Longbottom coat of arms was removed with a wave of Whimsy's hand as were any wrinkles the cloth had obtained while hanging up. The luxuriant material was trimmed in black at the collar, cuffs and tail.

"Master Harry, yous like these?"

"Yes, of course," Harry admired the robes honestly. "But Neville, those look terribly expensive."

"They're fine. Whimsy always picks the proper outfit and if she chose these then be my guest."

"Alright," he relented though Neville could see his pride was having a difficult time accepting. "Thank you Neville and you too Whimsy."

"Oh Whimsies not finished," she chirped happily. "Not at all."

What proceeded provided Neville with the best amusement he'd had all day.

With a snap of her fingers, Harry was quickly stripped down to his underwear making him release a girlish squawk of dismay. He looked like he wanted to cover himself but knew Neville would laugh even harder if he attempted such a feminine movement. Whimsy began her usual humming, casting quick cleansing charms over both Harry's body and hair. This had his eyes wide in disbelief behind his glasses.

"She buffed my nails," Harry glanced down at both his hands and feet, and then back at Neville with such incredulity, Neville fell back across his bed holding his stomach as he cackled.

When he could finally catch his breath, Neville sat back up and waved off Harry's concern. "Just relax, it will be over before you know it."

"And my teeth," Harry blinked as he ran his tongue over them.

"All part of the process."

"She doesn't do this to you every morning." Harry bit his lip, his face clouded with caution. "Does she?"

"No just on special occasions. Business meetings, balls or the such."

"I didn't know personal house elves were allowed at school." Harry sniffed discretely, then lifted his bare arm to sniff again. "Sandalwood?" he muttered finally.

"Students aren't. Heirs to Ancient and Noble Houses, or Lords themselves are. It is part of the arrangements the founders made for the thirteen Houses when the school first opened."

"The founders weren't apart of the Ancient and Noble Houses?"

"Though powerful and treated with reverence, no they weren't. The thirteen Houses were there long before the founders."

"I guess I haven't gotten that far in my reading," he shrugged.

"The convergence of the thirteen is dated back to Merlin," Neville explained. "Though each House can trace it's origins further back, it wasn't until the time of Camelot that we were brought together. Can you guess why?"

"As a balance to the Knights?"

"Yes. The sisters of Avalon sought balance as the world was changing. The muggles were gaining religion and moving beyond the guidance of witches and wizards. The thirteen were brought together to ensure that magic remained true to the Divine and the old ways were never forgotten."

"Trousers," Whimsy mumbled breaking the thread of the conversation. A pair of dark green trousers appeared on Harry with a snap of her fingers. "No," she bit her lip and they were gone again. "'Haps Charcoal." She snapped but before they were on more than a few seconds, "No." A quick snap and they were gone again. "Black, yes, black." She nodded eagerly after they appeared.

Another snap and the trousers were altered to fit Harry's smaller proportions. The black flat front trousers molded to Harry's slim frame much better than they ever had to his. Harry twisted, looking down at the trousers giving Neville a quick glimpse of something red on the back of his neck. Before he could ask, Whimsy had covered him in a t-shirt.

"Now shirt." Harry went through the same process until he was finally given a black shirt in the same shade of sable as the trousers he wore.

The final results made for a stunningly handsome Harry Potter. Whimsy dressed Harry in a waistcoat of forest green with a classic notched collar and conservative cut that suited him perfectly. A Windsor knotted necktie of green with pale white and black diagonal stripes completed the ensemble.

"You're looking well, Lord Potter." Neville smiled at Harry's astonished expression as he gazed at himself in the full length mirror. "Very dapper." From the tips of the high buffed black dragon hide boots to the gleam of the square shaped steel that peaked out at his cuff, Harry was every inch the Lord he was born to be.

"Almost done, Master Harry." Whimsy rocked back and forth on her heels eagerly. She always had enjoyed her work.

A quick snap and Harry's messy hair was now stylishly tousled, leaving the new length to shape his face from the left side part and taper off at the base of his neck. "That's definitely an improvement." Harry grinned at his reflection.

"Might Whimsies borrow Master Harry's spectacles to repair?" She held out a tremulous hand, not knowing how Harry would respond to such a personal request.

"Sure Whimsy," Harry slid the glasses off and placed them in her hand without much fuss. A moment later the normally circular frames were no longer plastic but a thin black wire frame with a softer rectangular shape.

Neville never would have guessed how much shifting the contours of Harry's glasses would age his face. Or perhaps like so many others, he had only been able to see the young soft face of the eleven year old that joined the Wizarding world for the first time and not the man Harry had grown to be.

Even Harry seemed startled by the transformation. He reached a shaky hand out to the mirror, touching the reflection once before moving away as if not daring to believe the man staring back was himself.

"Is Master Harry upset with Whimsies?"

"No!" The response was short and Harry caught himself, turning to Whimsy with a gentle smile. "No, not at all Whimsy. I guess I just wasn't expecting it. Thank you, you've done a wonderful job. I certainly couldn't have pulled this off by myself."

"Yous most welcome, Master Harry. Can Whimsies help with anything else, Master Neville?"

"No Whimsy, thank you again."

"I's happy to help Master Neville." She gave a short bow and disappeared with a snap.

When they were alone, Harry released a long heavy sigh. His brows had drawn together into a frown as he continued to look at the man in the mirror. "Something wrong?" Neville asked.

"I think I'm coming to understand Ron's insecurities." Harry raised a hand looking at the drape of the robes across his arm and chest. The rich fabric, the elegant detailing were expected of a Lord of an Ancient and Noble House. Something Ron would be jealous of and then take out on Harry.

"Ron has lots of issues he must deal with that have nothing to do with you Harry. It doesn't help that he doesn't respond well to change. There isn't anything you can do about that. It's something he has to work through on his own. And it isn't your fault that you were born to a greater purpose no matter how Ron feels about it."

"I think it's very difficult to stay friends with someone like me. I'm surprised we haven't had more troubles, especially after fourth year. Didn't really resolve those problems, did we. Just pushed them aside because we wanted to be friends again."

"A true friend would never ask you to deny who you are Harry. And I'm not just talking about the Boy-who-lived stuff. There is a lot more to Harry Potter than that."

"Lord Harrigan, you mean? I can barely wrap my mind around it Neville. How do I expect Ron to?"

"There comes a point in all of our lives when we must grow up and recognize the responsibilities that come with adulthood. Ron hasn't reached that point yet, so it's hard for him to accept that you have."

Harry said nothing but Neville knew he was considering Ron's immature behavior recently at Hermione's birthday party.

"There is no set age a person matures. Even though Wizarding law grants us the privileges of adults at seventeen, most wizards and witches never leave their parents home until well after they're employed and have the funds for new homes, or are married."

"And with Mrs. Weasley, I'm sure that's even longer than normal. She means well but I'm not even her son and sometimes her mothering is overwhelming. I can't imagine how the others take it. But I guess with Ron being the youngest son, he's probably enjoying the attention now that his brothers are gone and it's just him and Ginny. Asking him to grow up a bit now might be unfair."

"You'll find Mrs. Weasley's attitude in many Wizarding families, especially toward witches who are to make prosperous marriages and heirs. Ron's going to have grow up at some point whether he wants to or not."

"I guess I feel like it's one more reminder that I'm different. I hate that Dumbledore kept this a secret. I have nerves twisting in my gut and I'm starting to think maybe he was right. Maybe I'm not ready for this."

"He was wrong." The last thing he wanted was for Harry to lose confidence in himself. "It doesn't matter what Dumbledore's intentions were. If you had been told from the beginning about your heritage, you wouldn't be feeling nervous right now. You would be prepared."

"Suppose you're right." Harry dragged in a deep breath and released it slowly. "I guess it's time to back up my words with action."

Three sharp raps on the door was followed by someone calling out, "Harry, the Headmaster is downstairs in the common room asking for you. Can I come in?"

"Sure Hermione," Harry told the familiar feminine voice turning to wait until she came in. Her head ducked inside first, eyes widening in surprise as the door was opened further to allow her to step inside. She stared wordlessly as if she had never seen him before.

"Everything alright, 'Mione?" Harry knew he looked nothing like the Harry Potter she was accustomed to and was having fun teasing her about it.

"You look different." She finally managed after several more moments of silence. Her head tilted to the side and he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"Different bad?" He asked and she immediately shook her head.

"No! Of course not. Different nice," she offered him a soft gentle smile of appreciation. "You look very mature Harry. What's the occasion?"

He should probably keep the truth to himself a while longer, as he didn't know if he could handle any surprise revelations this afternoon after Ron's. He just hated lying to her. "I'm meeting with the goblin representative from Gringotts this afternoon."

"Is that why Professor Dumbledore is here to see you? About Sirius' will?"

"Not exactly," he hedged. He knew she wanted to know but wouldn't ask. Ordinarily, she would have, he thought to himself. She would have kept at him until he finally relented and spilled everything. Did a change of clothes make such a big difference?

"I'll explain later, alright?"

Harry gave Neville a silent nod of thanks, earning one in return before making his way down to the common room. He would speak more to Neville again later when they were alone, pleased that he had found someone who could help him understand more about the Ancient and Noble houses from a personal perspective, not merely a book.

The common room was empty for the most part, except for a few students studying over in the corner near the fireplace. Harry was grateful Ron wasn't around so he would miss seeing Harry in the expensive clothes. Though they had come to a small truce, Harry knew that another argument would not be beneficial to their already tremulous friendship.

"Good Afternoon Harry. You're looking well."

Dumbledore looked just as bizarrely fitted as usual, this time in turquoise robes with animated white clouds floating across them. Harry wondered if he truly enjoyed his strange attire or if everything he did held some deeper secret meaning even down to the robes he wore.

"Good afternoon, sir. Hermione told me you wanted to see me."

"Yes," Dumbledore gestured to the portrait that swung open for them to leave. "The representative from Gringotts and his associates have arrived. I've placed them in a small sitting room with refreshments while I retrieved you."

"Thank you sir." Part of him wished this could have been handled without Dumbledore's knowledge or interference but he had promised not to leave the school grounds and he would keep to his word.

"I was wondering if perhaps you might wish someone to accompany you this afternoon. Myself or perhaps Professor McGonagall? I'm sure you're feeling a little unsettled about the obligations you'll soon be facing and another presence, especially an adult, can be reassuring."

"That won't be necessary." Even if it were, the last person he would invite would be Dumbledore.

"Are you certain, Harry. Accepting the mantle of an Ancient and Noble House is no small undertaking. Guidance-"

"Should have been offered years ago," Harry interrupted before the older wizard could continue. "I appreciate the offer Professor but I'll be handling my family's business now sir. On my own." He emphasized, just incase the Headmaster held any lingering doubts of his position.

The sheer audacity of the man, Harry closed his eyes to cut off the remainder of that thought. If he continued on in that vein, he would lose his temper. He didn't want to start this meeting unsettled. He needed to remain calm and have his wits about him to be prepared to face the newest challenges in his life.

Harry went though a few breathing exercises Leo had taught him that were usually a big help in reining in his temper. Perhaps later he would go to the Room of Requirement to train alone.

And he almost stopped in his tracks at the very thought of the Room of Requirement.

No. No. No. No.

He backed the memory off not nearly ready to face what had happened that night in the Room of Requirement between him and Blaise.

_Blaise._

Bloody. Fucking. Hell.

His heartbeat literally skipped and then began to race. A shiver of something sensually compelling he had never felt before slid down his spine every time his thoughts turned to the Slytherin. The way Blaise's mouth felt pressed against his, when never in his life had Harry even considered being attracted to another male sexually.

Not right now, he lifted a shaky arm to knead the heel of his hand into his chest lightly, as if that would calm the fervent pulsing in his chest. Yes he had put off confronting the memory several times over the past two days but now was definitely not the time.

The same hand that sought relief against his chest, rose to touch his mouth before it was snatched away.

**_Later._**

This was best, as Dumbledore stopped in front of an open door to wave him inside. The sitting room was a combination of the library and the Gryffindor common room decorated in shades of crimson and gold. Heavy draped were drawn back from large windows to reveal the castle grounds and the sunny Sunday afternoon.

A goblin, who Harry assumed was from Gringotts sat at a large circular ebony table. He was accompanied by an older gentleman who was attired in smoke grey trousers and frock coat with a crisp white shirt and crimson tie making the most of his rugged tanned features. Neatly groomed hair was more salt than pepper, a clear sign of his age making Harry deduce this was the Potter steward, Seymour Colfax.

Before each of them was a tea service so Harry figured whatever the goblin was sipping gently from his cup wasn't a fine English blend. At his entrance both men set their beverages aside and stood, waiting until he reached the table with Dumbledore.

"Here we are, gentlemen. Allow me to introduce, Harry Potter. Harry this is Gardip, the Director of the Inheritance Department at Gringotts and his associate Mr. Seymour Colfax."

This was one of those times Harry wished he had paid more attention in History of Magic when Binns was going on about Goblins and goblin wars. He could only hope that his honest intentions would make up for any errors in etiquette he might make.

"Lord Potter," the goblin's voice was low and gruff and what Harry expected despite the gentleman's attire he wore. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance. The Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter has been clients of Gringotts for many years and our many endeavors prosperous. It is our hopes that our continued alliance will prove so in the future as well."

Despite uneasy goblin wizard relations, it was obvious the house of Potter was held with esteem. It might be because it was among the thirteen or by the money either way, Harry intended to take advantage.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Gardip " He extended a hand in greeting, ignoring Dumbledore's sniff of disapproval as well as the other man's blink of surprise. If Gardip was taken aback or offended by his gesture, it was quickly concealed as a small hand joined his. "It is my hope that our association reaps many rewards as well."

"This is the Potter family's steward, Seymour Colfax. He has been attending your estate diligently since your father awarded him the placement."

"Greetings My Lord," he bowed once in respect. "It is an honor to meet you at last."

"And you as well, Mr. Colfax." Harry offered his hand to this man as well. "I must thank you for taking care of my family's estate these past years. I know I have much to learn and look forward to doing so under your tutelage."

"It was a privilege. My family has lived in Deckmoor for many generations and we have always served the House of Potter to the best of our ability."

"Deckmoor?" He looked to the goblin who understood his confusion.

"Perhaps we should begin, My Lord, please be seated." Gardip turned to Dumbledore with a small nod, "Thank you Headmaster Dumbledore." It was a clear dismissal that could not be mistaken for anything less.

Dumbledore looked at him as though hoping he had changed his mind but Harry merely smiled once in thanks giving the elder wizard no choice but to leave. If Harry had been alone he just might have burst into laughter at the Headmaster's disgruntled expression.

"If you require more refreshment, Harry, feel free to summon one of Hogwarts' elves."

"Thank you sir."

When they were alone and the door closed firmly behind Dumbledore, the goblin waved a hand, encircling them within a golden barrier. It spread to enclose the entire room before it shimmered away. Harry didn't need to be told it was a privacy charm. He didn't trust Dumbledore not to have taken steps to listen in on their conversation either.

"Now My Lord," Gardip began again.

"Please, call me Harry. I'm not really used to the title yet and I keep resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder."

"Certainly," Gardip paused, as if testing the new moniker on his tongue. "Lord Harry." Opening a large folder, he withdrew three stacks of parchment and placed them into separate piles. A final set was taken out and Gardip closed the folder and handed them over for him to read. "I thought we would start with your parents' final Will and Testament. We've waited fifteen years to release these documents, my Lord."

"Why so long?"

"Because no one stepped forward," the goblin answered honestly. "After your parents' deaths, you disappeared from the Wizarding world. There was no way to contact your guardians to come into Gringotts and sign the proper papers to release your trust fund into your hands. Given what we have learned, that you were residing in the muggle world, there would have been no way for your guardians to sign them regardless. Only a witch or wizard can hear the will of the heir of an Ancient and Noble House and begin the proper arrangements in regards to your inheritance."

"Perhaps that was for the best," Harry murmured, looking down at the terribly complicated looking papers with a frown. If his Uncle and Aunt had access to Harry's money they would have stolen it all and squandered it on Dudley making Harry a pauper if they could. "Could you maybe summarize things and I'll look this over further on my own."

"Of course. If you'll turn to page twenty-five of the will, it will outline first your status as the heir to the house of Potter, assigning you the title when you reach the age of sixteen. Your parents chose this alternative for," he looked down at his copy of the will and read, _"Reasons Harrigan will come to comprehend by then."_

Voldemort, sighed to himself. They knew the prophecy and figured if they died and he somehow survived, he would know about the prophecy by the time he was sixteen.

"Next, the issue of guardianship was to be granted to Lord Sirius Orion Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, who was made your godfather during the proper ceremony at your annual. If Lord Black was unable to assume guardianship, it was to be granted to Lord Regan Niallan Roarke of the Ancient and Noble House of Roarke, your great uncle."

"Roarke, I've seen that name before. That's my grandmother's family name isn't it? You mean I have family left, other than my Aunt Petunia? That are still alive?"

"Yes. I sent word to our Ireland branch and was assured Lord Roarke would be present today. Perhaps he was detained but I'm sure he would have sent word if he was unable to attend."

"I have an Uncle?" A great-uncle actually but that made no difference. Harry gripped the sides of the table in order to rein in his temper. He had _family_. Living family that would have taken him, given him a real home where he wasn't treated like something foul that had been scrapped off the bottom of a shoe and his very existence resented.

Did Dumbledore know? Was this another one of his 'good intentions'? If asked, the wizard would probably claim Harry needed to be with his Aunt for the blood protections but any understanding he had was now gone. He had family, living breathing family, and Dumbledore had possibly kept him from knowing.

Both attendees gave Harry time to compose himself, Colfax placing a comforting hand on his shoulder while Gardip shuffled papers around. "I think we should move on from guardianship," Harry whispered, his voice scratchy from emotion. Colfax poured him a glass of water, which Harry accepted with a thanks. He took several deep swallows before returning to the topic. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm too old for a guardian now, anyway." Hopefully he would have the opportunity to meet his great uncle today but if not, Harry could seek him out on his own later now that he knew of the wizard's existence.

"Certainly, my Lord," Gardip replied and turned the page. "Your parents made several bequests, however, due to the War, many of the recipients are unable to claim the inheritance. We can make arrangements for their heirs to receive the gifts instead if you wish."

"Yes, that's fine."

"The there a is one particular bequest you should be made aware of, in regards to Remus Lupin. You may not be aware of this but as a registered werewolf, Mr. Lupin is unable to claim any monetary or property inheritance over five hundred galleons."

"What! That's not fair!"

"Yes, but it is the law the Ministry has in place for any Dark Creature. However, your father has managed a way around that ruling by leaving arrangements for the Marauders Foundation. It would be housed within one of the Potter properties near Exmoor, a small private manor enclosed by a forest preserve. This is to be a sanctuary for those afflicted by the lycanthropy virus. You are to head the board of directors, along with twelve others of your choosing, granting full operation of the Foundation to Remus Lupin with a monthly salary of one thousand pounds. Twenty million galleons are to be placed in a Foundation vault for use and you were to be responsible for maintaining a working income."

"Way to get around the fucking idiots, Dad," Harry murmured, but not softly enough for he jerked up at Mr. Colfax's chuckle. "Sorry." Harry could imagine the good the Marauders Foundation could do for the werewolf population and not only that, but remove potential allies from Voldemort in the process.

"Not at all, my Lord. Your father had a delightful aptitude for thumbing his nose at authority. Especially the Ministry. I believe it was a Potter family trait."

"Good to know I come by my disgust of the Ministry honestly."

"Yes, bigotry in any form was detested by the Potters."

"The next bequest was to Lord Black, however as his heir, those items shall remain with you. We will get to the reading of your godfather's in a moment. We will also ensure the Longbottom heir, Lady Bones and Lady Davis receive their bequests as I stated before." Gardip closed the will, setting it aside.

"Next we have the inheritance you received from Lord Black. Unfortunately, though you were declared Lord Black's heir when he became his godson as you are not a Black by blood you are unable to inherit the title. It has passed on to Mr. Malfoy, son of Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

The title was all that important to Harry, he just hated that Malfoy inherited anything from Sirius. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh, it mattered a great deal to Lord Black, I believe. When he received the title he was quite furious to learn what your godfather had done."

Harry noted the viciously satisfied gleam in Gardip's tiny eyes and felt a tremor of delight of his own. It would be just like Sirius to get one over on the rest of his family even in death. "What did he do?"

"While a respectable title, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is quite bankrupt."

The high pitched cackle of joy Harry released would have amused Sirius Black immensely. In fact as he threw back his head and roared with laughter, it was the lightest Harry had felt since watching his godfather fall to his death. "Oh Padfoot, you marauder you," Harry murmured as he finally settled down to an occasional giggle.

"Yes, after some rather large endowments, Sirius left the remainder of the Black fortune, totaling approximately ten billion galleons in liquid assets and property. A new vault, number 13P, an extension of one of the Potter family vaults, was opened by Gringotts for this inheritance. Lord Black was forced to leave the minimum balance of two hundred thousand galleons in the Black coffers as stipulated by their House laws."

"I wish I could have been there to see Malfoy's face." The ferret would have been in rare form once he realized that his so called enemy would have escaped with the prize leaving Malfoy with a useless title. It would almost be worth the detention to antagonize Malfoy about his lack of fortune.

"Now, I believe Mr. Colfax as the Potter steward can better explain the estate and its entailments. He has been under Wizarding Oath while employed as trustee over them."

Colfax sat straighter in his chair, adjust his tie a minute bit as the attention was now focused on him. "Yes. As I began earlier, my family has resided in Deckmoor for many generations my Lord, one of the many families that reside on the Potter lands."

"Where is this Deckmoor?"

"Near Minehead on a prominent hill top overlooking the Bristol channel. It is unplottable and under the same enchantments as Hogwarts, so most muggles who live in the area or any tourists will only see the cliff and feel a pressing need to return to Minehead."

"How many families reside on the Deckmoor lands?"

"At the last census count, one and fifty families and a total of five hundred citizens currently occupy Deckmoor. We have very few muggle-born families but many mixed heritage households. Deckmoor is after all a small self sufficient town much like Hogsmeade. Your major products are Cheviot and Dartmoor sheep bred for both meat and wool and we are the chief suppliers of each to the Wizarding world. Any extra harvested crops from the farms are sold at market and the profits fed back into the Deckmoor co-op.

Deckmoor raises peregrine falcons as well as eagle owls for prominent Wizarding households. You have major interests in prominent greenhouses, a vineyard in Tuscany that bottles its own Wizarding and muggle labels of wines as well as premium olive oil. Your family holds shares in many businesses, the last purchased, a majority share in the Nimbus Racing Broom Company by your father the day he discovered your mother was pregnant with you."

His father, the Quidditch obsessed, Harry thougth with a smile. "Your liquid assets last quarter were just over twenty five point nine billion galleons. Your total wealth, including Griffin Keep the Potter family seat, other real estate properties and goods is well over two hundred billion galleons."

"And you've been in charge of the Potter estate all of this time?" Harry looked at the quiet unassuming man with a new appreciation. To be in charge of such wealth was a massive undertaking, the intelligence and business acumen needed was beyond anything Harry was capable of. It would take years of study and practice before he would be capable of taking the reins.

"Yes, my Lord. The trust your father placed in my hands has been a honored duty to uphold. All of the citizens of Deckmoor follow the Potter maxim, _familia fideles defendit_."

"Family protects the faithful ones," Harry smiled at the adage. He didn't have to wonder why his parents had gone into hiding at Godric's Hallow. His father would never put the people of Deckmoor in danger from Voldemort as it was his responsibility to protect them.

"Perhaps a small break is in order, Lord Harry," Gardip suggested, as almost an hour had already passed and they were merely touching upon the highlights of his inheritance.

"Yes, I think I'm on information overload. I never realized my family had accumulated such wealth." Harry leaned back in his chair, resisting the urge to loosen the knot at his throat for much needed relief.

"I think now would be a good time to introduce you to your personal valet," Colfax offered. "Would that be satisfactory, my Lord?"

He had a valet like Whimsy? "I guess," he answered slowly, a bit wary of a replica of the slightly bossy house elf that had clothed him.

"Hobbes," Colfax snapped his fingers and an instant later the house elf appeared.

"Yes, Mr. Colfax?"

The little elf was nothing like Dobby or Winky, nor Kreacher or Whimsy. Though dressed similarly to Whimsy in a toga, his was in black with crimson trim and what was probably the Potter coat of arms just beneath his right shoulder.

"This, Hobbes, is your Lord Harrigan James Potter. Lord Harry, your valet, Hobbes."

Large eyes lit with joy as a bright smile spread across his face before he performed a low bow. "You carry the family genes well, Master Potter."

This time Harry was reduced to blank astonishment at the crisp clear English the house elf had spoken. It amused Colfax immensely. "As I said, my Lord. Your family abhorred bigotry on all levels. The Potter house elves are all educated, something many that fell out of fashion with many pureblood families."

"It is nice to meet you Hobbes. And please, call me Harry." Perhaps Hermione wouldn't skin him alive for having house elves for servants.

"It is an honor to assume my responsibilities, my Lord."

"Yes, um," he faltered, then remembered why they had taken the break in the first place. "Perhaps you could refresh our tea?"

"Of course," Hobbes went to snap his fingers when Harry stopped him.

"Oh, and maybe you could not tell a certain house elf named Dobby that you're my valet. He's a little excitable and I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"Certainly, Master Harry."

When he was gone, Colfax said, "Hobbes and his family have served as valet to the Potter Lords for many years. If you need anything, you only have to ask Hobbes. He welcomes the opportunity to sever the new Potter Lord. Also if you need to reach me when I'm back at Deckmoor, you may send word with Hobbes if the matter is more urgent than usual owl mail."

"I know you have many responsibilities at Deckmoor but I was hoping we could set aside some time soon where we can speak. There are things I need to learn and with the War, I want to make sure that Deckmoor is protected from Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Colfax placed a hand on his arm, calming in it's reassurance, and much needed considering the turbulent emotions breaking over him all at once. "I can come here to Hogwarts each weekend to begin your instruction if you like."

"That sounds agreeable and I would like nothing more than to jump right in but there's just so many things going on right now with lessons, my training. I don't want to be overwhelmed and make mistakes that could affect other people's lives."

"I can remain steward until you're ready to assume full control of the Potter assets my Lord. In the meantime, you're able to learn and trust that your assets are looked after by myself and Gringotts as well."


	16. Chapter 16

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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**Chapter Sixteen**

Twilight suited him.

Highlighted by the burnished orange light that illuminated the school grounds and shimmered along the surface of the lake, Blaise Zabini looked as mysterious and fascinating as the first time Harry had truly looked at him for the first time on the train to Hogwarts.

He had left the castle after his meeting with Gardip and Colfax ended, needing to make sense of the enormous changes he would be facing in the future. Neville's words resounded with harsh truth, if he had been prepared, Harry would not be feeling so overwhelmed. It was fortunate his father had placed his trust in an honest man, for Colfax could have been robbing him blind and stripping his estate of every galleon and Harry wouldn't have known. The goblin watch and the Wizarding oath in place couldn't diminish Colfax's integrity.

Thankfully, Harry had time. Time to travel to Griffin's Keep to see the home his family had held for many centuries. Time to visit Deckmoor and greet the people who lived, worked and thrived there. Time to take his rightful place as Lord. Colfax believed with careful guidance he would be ready to assume control of the estate by the time he needed to take his seat in the Wizengamot; by his twenty-first birthday.

It was a strong incentive to destroy Voldemort and end this war as quickly as possible.

So he needed to set aside his anger, the bitter tang of betrayal in his mouth, and concentrate on the future and how he wanted to shape it. For the first time, he actually had a future to look forward to and that soothed most of his hurt.

There was almost an hour before he needed to head back to the dorm to change so he would be ready to leave for Grimmauld Place and the Order meeting. At first he thought to look through the things Gardip had brought him from one of the Potter vaults that his parents had set aside for him but finding privacy this time of day would be impossible. The Room of Requirement was off limits because he hadn't been prepared to face his memories of Blaise. He would look through them later that night after the others were asleep.

Yet fate was not without purpose, Harry thought with a wry grin. As much as he wanted to avoid Blaise, just the sight of him standing in one of Harry's favorite places to think was a sign that perhaps he was ready to confront his feelings after all. If just the sight of the Slytherin could both excite and terrify him all in the same breath, it was time to stop running. He had never turned from a challenge before, even when it would have been in his best interests to do so. No, it was probably the most essential part of his nature, that desire to face confrontation. To fight through until the bitter end.

"Hello Harry."

The warm greeting inspired a gently growing fire to spark in the depths of his stomach. He hadn't exactly been quiet but Harry had the feeling Blaise would have known he was approaching regardless. When Blaise glanced back over his shoulder, Harry paused in his steps. The man's dark mocha gaze was assessing, slowly and seductively traveling the length of him. Harry was glad he hadn't changed from the robes he had borrowed from Neville. As something intense flared through those eyes, he thought Blaise approved of Lord Harrigan James Potter who had stepped from the shadows and into his birthright this afternoon.

"Hello," he offered in return, feeling the trepidation of facing Blaise falling away and nerves of a different sort coming to life. He certainly had noticed the appeal of Blaise Zabini before but perhaps in a more off hand way. The man was handsome, there was no doubt in Harry's mind about that and had he thought twice about it, Harry might have realized his fascination for what it in fact was. Attraction.

Even now Harry was exceedingly aware of him. The way Blaise stood there, tall, handsome with a beautifully proportioned body that Harry admired in a way he was sure he didn't consider his other friends. Only in Blaise had Harry ever noted the way the rich outlines of his shoulders strained against the fabric of the maroon v-neck jumper he wore. Or how whenever those dark eyes focused on him, they were kindled with a passion Harry had never had experienced before.

The last time they were alone together, Harry was angry with his friends. In fact, on almost every occasion he found himself with Blaise, Harry was upset over something and Blaise would slowly ease him away from the negative emotions. It was a very one-sided acquaintance, and given Blaise's declaration of his feelings, Harry had to wonder what Blaise found appealing in his ever angst-driven presence.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you." For once he would resist the urge to spill his troubles and perhaps see if there was more to his feelings than mere attraction.

"No, please, join me."

Blaise held out a hand, opening his personal space in invitation and Harry accepted. They were close enough their shoulders occasionally brushed together. Close enough that Blaise could have slipped an arm around him the same way he had that night in the Room of Requirement. The thought made his heart thud, sending a rush of heat to his face that he hoped the gradually darkening shadows around them concealed.

"I'm sorry I ran away the other day," he apologized.

Harry expected many things, disgust at his cowardice, annoyance, but certainly not Blaise's deep chuckle of amusement. At least not humor inwardly directed.

"I'm just grateful you didn't hex me."

"Why would I do that?"

"I did practically assault you, Harry. I'm the one who should be apologizing. You should know I don't make a practice of grabbing men and kissing them whenever the urge strikes me."

"No. You don't seem like the type." They looked each other and smiled in earnest. "I just don't understand why."

"Why?"

"Why you like me, I mean. I'm guessing you like me, as you've said you don't go around arbitrarily kissing people. So, I'm just saying I don't really understand why you like me. We barely know each other with me being in Gryffindor and you belonging to Slytherin, there haven't been many opportunities for us to spend time together. Other than the few we have already."

"Do you always ramble when you're nervous?"

Harry tried to sneer at Blaise's amusement at his expense but that only made the arresting smile he wore broaden. "I'm being serious," he pointed out.

"Alright," Blaise relented, "You want to know why I'm attracted to you. That is what you're asking me right?"

"Yes."

"And you stand here with me looking as you are and you really have to ask me that question?"

Harry glanced down at his dress robes, and then shook his head. "See, this isn't me. I borrowed these robes from a friend; I don't usually dress like this. Or like I was at Hermione's party when you kissed me."

"You think my feelings are based how you look?"

"Well aren't they? They can't be based on how well we know each other because you barely know me."

Dark eyebrows slanted in a frown, as Blaise pinned him with a sharp gaze. "A true Slytherin prides himself in two qualities, cunning and ambition. In order to be cunning, you must be able to collect information without others knowing you're doing so. Not many here at Hogwarts can say they know much about me as I prefer to remain in the shadows and observe. Daphne and Tracey would tell you I'm an expert in collecting information."

"But what does-"

"Lord Harrigan James Potter. Harry to his friends. I won't bore you with the things anyone can collect from a book or newspaper. With rumor or innuendo. You love to fly. Most people wouldn't realize how important that information is. They would probably relate it to quidditch and you being the youngest seeker in a century."

"I like playing quidditch," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, you do. But you _love_ to fly. I see it whenever you're on a broom. Those first few moments when you're in the sky and almost oblivious to everything going on around you except for you and flying. You seem almost annoyed when it's time to focus on the game. Then you spot the snitch and it turns into another type of enjoyment. It becomes all determination and drive when you chase the snitch, riding air currents as if it was you flying and not the broom and quidditch becomes second to the challenge."

What could he say to that? It was exactly how he felt about flying but he never thought anyone else had noticed. Not even Ron or Hermione had and they were his best friends.

"You're a leader."

"That's where you're wrong," Harry shook his head in denial.

"You're not a leader because you want to be." Blaise raised a hand, his finger gently traced the line of his cheekbone and jaw, before falling back to his side as if he had needed to touch him and couldn't resist the temptation.

"You're a leader because you were born to be. That's what will make you great. You don't have to prove anything about yourself and you don't try. In fact, you prefer to remain out of the public eye but you aren't afraid to take a stand. Example, last year with Umbridge in Defense Against the Dark Arts. When the Ministry, the Daily Prophet and everyone was attacking you, calling you an attention seeking liar, you stood your ground despite the consequences."

"Most people would call that stubborn stupidity." Harry mumbled, not wanting to think about fifth year because the end had resulted in his godfather's death.

"And your little club?" Blaise leaned back, tilting his head in inquiry.

"Was Hermione's idea," Harry insisted. The DA wasn't much of a secret anymore after Umbridge caught them. Malfoy would have enjoyed telling all of Slytherin as he crowed about the inquisitorial squad's part in bringing down Harry Potter. "I never would have thought of starting the DA. She was the one who insisted I do it because of all the work I put in during fourth year learning spells because of the Tri-Wizard tournament."

"But once you agreed, the others followed you. Listened. That's what makes a good leader Harry. A leader is one who can inspire loyalty and respect."

"And I almost got my friends killed." He had to shift away, the memories of the Department of Mysteries were still difficult to face.

"You're attractive," Blaise pointed out bluntly, catching his arm and forcing him to accept the declaration.

"This," the Slytherin waved to Harry's robes and his new appearance, "This is merely the culmination of who you truly are. Lean and graceful when you're in the air, sinewy and almost feral like a predator when threatened. Vital. Powerful. With captivating eyes and a stunning face. Even when you hid behind those taped glasses and trousers that didn't fit with jumpers better off in a rubbish bin and hair in need of a trim, you couldn't hide it."

Blaise took a step closer, his nearness almost overwhelming. His scent, hints of patchouli and amber, enveloped his senses and Harry could hear his heart hammering in his ears, feel his mouth dry. He moved forward as well, impelled by the strength of his own attraction until he could almost feel their magic shifting, reaching for the other. Blaise leaned down slightly so that Harry could do nothing but drown in his fathomless eyes.

"You can't hide from me, Harrigan."

Their mouths brushed once, then again, and had his magic not burst free in a wild whirlwind encircling them, the kiss might have deepened. It was enough to bring back his awareness of where they were, in front of the lake were anyone could have come upon them. Gryffindor or Slytherin. And Harry wasn't ready for anyone to know what was unfolding between him and Blaise. He wanted to figure this attraction out for himself before others had the opportunity to voice their opinions.

"Sorry." Turned his head away, struggling to bring his magic back under control. He would have to speak with Septima and Leo about this. It wasn't the first time his magic had manifested in the form of a violent wind and he hadn't known this was possible.

Blaise raised his arm, a self mocking smile curving his lips, as he revealed a hand alight with a red glow. "Unnecessary."

"Is that?" He stared at the dancing flame that didn't injure Blaise's fingers.

"Fire? Yes it is." Rather than extinguish, the flames seemed to merely melt back down under Blaise's skin.

"How on-" he halted his next words, though he desperately wanted to know how Blaise was capable of producing a corporal flame without harming himself. He had no right to ask such an intimate question. At least not yet, anyway. "I forgot what I was asking you."

"You wanted to know why I kissed you and I explained it."

"I guess you did," Harry agreed, drawing long deep breaths into his lungs so he could calm down.

"My question for you is whether or not you're attracted to me as well and if so, what do you want to happen next?"

He bit his lower lip that still tingled from the contact with Blaise's mouth. "Yes," he admitted, "I guess I am. I've never been attracted to another male before. There was Cho and that ended horribly and no one else after that. I always thought I liked girls."

"Just because you're attracted to me, Harry, doesn't mean you can't still like girls as well."

"Really?" His eyes widened briefly before he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course it does Harry," he muttered to himself. He might not have much experience with relationships, or in social interaction with his peers but it didn't mean he was totally ignorant. "What do you want to happen next? It's going to be difficult for us to see each other and I'm not sure I'm ready for everyone to know."

"Rambling again," Blaise cut him off with a fingertip to his lips. "I understand what you're trying to say though and you're probably right. Though Daphne and Tracey wouldn't have any objections, I don't think your lions would feel the same about the big bad snake luring their leader to wickedness."

"We were supposed to meet to copy the book but I got a month of detentions."

"And I appreciate you copying the book for me." Blaise nodded in acknowledgement.

"It was the least I could do since I was the one who ruined our arrangement. The notes you gave me were a big help," Harry returned. "We could try again, if you're not too averse to sneaking out after curfew. We could meet in the Room of Requirement Friday nights at midnight."

"Are you making a date with me Harry?" The question brought on a bout of sputtering words that inspired a deep warm and rich laugh from Blaise.

"I just thought we could use the time to get to know each other better, though you seem to know a lot more about me than I do about you. It seems like every time we meet we end up talking about me more than you. That's not exactly fair."

"Fine. Friday at midnight. You can tell me why you're attracted to me and why you've been so honest with me. I'll divulge a few secrets of my own and we'll see where our attraction takes us."

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**FSFSFS**

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Not much had changed about the Black manor, Harry realized as he stepped from the fireplace and moved aside to make way for Dumbledore to come through. It looked like someone had done more cleaning, the gleaming wood floors a marked contradiction to the morose atmosphere that hung over the house like a grim storm cloud. A colorful afghan was tossed over the side of the couch and new deep burgundy drapes hung from the windows.

He was careful not to make much noise, remembering the picture of Sirius' mother and the vitriol she spit when disturbed.

Dumbledore stepped through with more grace than Harry could ever accomplish as Harry was acknowledging the changes to his godfather's home. Remus' home, Harry amended. Dumbledore had explained how Sirius had left the manor to Dumbledore with the stipulation that Remus be granted the right to live there for as long as he chose. It was the only was to get around the werewolf laws.

Harry was glad he wasn't given the property. The last thing Harry wanted was to own the place that had been a second prison to Sirius. Perhaps Remus could find a way to around those memories after the war but Remus had allowed the Order to continue using the property as a base of operations for the time being.

"Come along, Harry. We shall see if the others are about."

The Headmaster wasn't pleased with Harry, especially with the way he had been excluded from the meeting with the Gringotts representative. It made for a tension between the two that Harry wasn't accustomed to but he wasn't about to allow Dumbledore to guilt trip him into apologizing.

As they approached the kitchen, Harry caught the aroma of cooking food and the low tones of conversation. There was still over an hour remaining before the start of the Order meeting a seven, so the few people gathered around the long table were expected. Bill sat next to Fleur with an arm around her shoulders. He had learned from Ron the two were seriously dating and he could tell from the way they interacted, they cared very deeply for each other. Bill's fingers would trail lightly across her shoulder before moving to play with strands of her hair. While Fleur would lean into his caresses, a smile making her beauty less untouchable.

The two were speaking with Remus whose fingers were threaded together with Tonks' on top of the table. Definitely a new development there, unless Harry had mistaken the intimacy. Mr. Weasley was reading the daily prophet but seemed to be listening to the conversation as well.

"Harry! What are you doing here?"

Before he could comment, Mrs. Weasley had already crossed the room from the stove where she had been preparing dinner and pulled him into a lung cracking embrace. "Look at you," she pulled back scanning him with a mother's eye from head to toe. "So grown up," she conceded with a smile. "We missed you this summer at the Burrow. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley."

"That's good dear." The sympathy he didn't want to address was there in her concerned gaze but she seemed to understand he wasn't going to speak of Sirius. Instead she gave his cheek a gentle pat before returning to her steaming pots. "That still doesn't explain why you're not at Hogwarts, I'm positive that you're missing supper. You're still a growing boy and shouldn't be missing meals."

"I invited Harry if you will recall," Dumbledore finally spoke up. "He'll be joining us tonight and I thought perhaps he would enjoy one of your lovely meals before hand, Molly."

Her face pulled into an affronted frown, "Albus, you can't be serious. He's just a child! He has no business attending an Order meeting!"

It was the last thing he wanted to hear. As much as he could appreciate Mrs. Weasley's concern, he wasn't a child any longer. He didn't need to be protected. While he might not be ready to face Voldemort, hiding away at Hogwarts and pretending that he didn't play a pivotal role in the War would be to act the child she claimed him to be.

"That's enough, Molly," Mr. Weasley set the paper he had been reading down on the table. "Albus told us Harry would be attending days ago, your concerns were noted then."

Mrs. Weasley did indeed look as though they had been through this argument before if the way she relented to her husband was any measure. "I don't like it. This war shouldn't be fought by children."

'Tell that to Voldemort,' Harry snorted to himself.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

Tonks' bright greeting rode over the underlying tension Mrs. Weasley's comments had created. Though shadows of fatigue circled her eyes, she still seemed to almost glow with happiness. Harry hoped that joy was shared by the man whose hand she was holding.

"Tonks," he nodded in greeting. "Remus. Bill. Fleur, Mr. Weasley. It's good to see you all."

Remus answered with an easy smile, "Hello Harry." The welcome was echoed by the others in the room as well. His clothes weren't as worn as usual, telling Harry he had probably received a small monetary endowment from Sirius' will. The man had stubborn pride but if he was in a relationship with Tonks, he would want to look his best for her. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"

"Of course he will," Mrs. Weasley spoke up to answer in his stead. "Look at him, so thin. A good meal is exactly what he needs."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I always enjoy your dinners." He would have to be careful not to overindulge in the heavy meal he knew she would make.

"You're looking well Harry," Fleur told him, bowing her head slightly in acknowledgement. Though still heavily accented, her English was getting better. "Very handsome, my Lord."

Harry had discarded the robe, deciding to remain in the waistcoat and tie rather than change for the evening. He didn't want to highlight the fact that he was still a Hogwarts student and not quite of age to the other Order members. He wanted to present the image of a strong wizard who belonged at the meeting not a child who was being indulged by the Headmaster.

"There were rumors going around Gringotts that the Potter Lord requested a meeting. The goblins were very excited not that you could tell unless you knew where to look," Bill explained. "I haven't seen that much activity in the Inheritance Department in all the time I've worked there."

Harry lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, neither confirming nor denying, and he definitely had no intentions of divulging what went on during the meeting. Given the Potter ring that now rested on his finger, Bill had a pretty good idea of what had gone on during his alleged meeting. Dumbledore certainly hadn't been able to take his eyes off the diamond and mythril ring that was embossed with the Potter coat of arms.

He joined the others at the table, just in time, as Mrs. Weasley had cast the spell to set the dishes and flatware. When the large platters of food sat before them, he had to question whether or not he would risk the evening blessing with everyone, including Dumbledore, at the table with him. The Headmaster had probably seen him but had yet to speak with him about the small ritual. The others had no idea he had begun to practice the old ways.

It wasn't that he was afraid of what they would think, he just didn't know if he was ready for even more upheaval in his life after such a long revealing day. In the end, he decided from now on that he couldn't allow others opinions to influence his life to such a point where he began to hide behind a mask. He wasn't ashamed to have discovered the old ways. He felt more connected to his magic now than he ever had.

In the end it wasn't the surprise on the Weasley's faces that shocked him, judging from Ron and Ginny's reaction, he had expected that. It was seeing Fleur and Tonks performing the same blessing that had brought such a reaction. Fleur gave him a smug smile before cutting a glance to Bill who looked like he didn't know what to think.

Tonks was much less circumspect with her grin of approval. Though her mother had been disinherited, Andromeda Tonks was still born a Black and it had been a good guess that the old ways were still observed in the Tonks household. Remus had a small cautious smile, before he nodded and began eating. Harry didn't know his feelings concerning the old ways but he obviously didn't judge others who practiced the traditions.

"Where on earth did you get such behavior, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley's hand was gripped by her husband to keep her from rising from her seat. Though he was restraining his wife, his face was stamped with clear disapproval as well. "Albus, is this being taught at Hogwarts now, these disgusting pureblood ways that should have been abolished long ago?"

Fleur and Tonks looked resigned as if they had heard this argument before. Judging from Fleur's expression, she had been hit the hardest with Mrs. Weasley's harsh words, given her relationship with Bill. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have dared insult Tonks' mother and Tonks was capable of giving as good as she got in any disagreement she might have.

"Mrs. Weasley, I don't think," he tried to explain but she ran roughshod all over any words he might have spoken.

"Harry, your parents would be ashamed of you for getting involved with such nonsense."

Whatever else she might have said was ignored as he removed his napkin from his lap and pushed away from the table to stand. "Mrs. Weasley." She continued on with her tirade disregarding his protests and his growing ire, going on with how disappointed his poor mother would feel, as he was insulting her blood with such iniquitous behavior.

"MRS. WEASLEY!" He slammed his fist down on the table hard enough to make it quake despite the weight of the food on it. "IF YOU'RE QUITE DONE!"

"Well I never," she began but was silenced when his magic chose to respond by shaking the entire room.

"You have no idea what my parents would think of me, Mrs. Weasley, so how dare you use them in such a manner. How _dare _you. My parents loved me enough to die for me, so I don't think my choosing to observe an evening blessing before my meal would have altered their love for me," his voice simmered with barely checked fury.

"Your family has been nothing but kind and generous to me, Mrs. Weasley and for that I am grateful, truly. I respect that you don't follow the old ways but you do not get to use my parents as a weapon against me or to make me fall in line with your beliefs."

Harry moved to push his chair back underneath the table, swallowing back a surge of anger so large it made him physically ill. "I would suggest to you ma'am, that you don't try it again. Now please excuse me."

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

"Let me get this straight."

Tracey Davis looked at her long time friend Blaise Zabini who was happy and wondered if the world was somehow coming to an end. Given the Dark Lord and the coming War, it wasn't an unreasonable conclusion to draw.

No, it wasn't Blaise's happiness that had her pondering Armageddon. It was the small smile that hadn't left his face during the entire dinner hour. Not that Blaise didn't smile, for he had one of the most gorgeous she had ever seen. She had ever seen. Not the entire of Hogwarts. For the first time ever, Blaise wasn't wearing a proper Slytherin mask. Granted, anyone who didn't know him wouldn't truly be able to tell the difference. Even happiness didn't lend to such vulnerability for a Slytherin. But Tracey was not only a member of his Coven but one of his best friends those standards didn't hold true for her.

"You and the new Lord have an assignation at the end of the week? And how did this come about?"

Even Daphne was speechless at the change in their best friend and that was saying something. Nothing shocked Daphne. Daphne was the one who figured out Blaise was interested in Harry. Neither of them thought the Gryffindor would return those affections. At most they hoped for a new member of their Coven, at worst, friendship.

Tracey would have wagered a thousand galleons that Ginny Weasley had been merely biding her time before she sank her claws into Harry, taking him off the market before he had a chance to step into the relationship arena. Blaise pulling off a coup like this was the surprise of the school year.

"I'm happy for you," she murmured, clasping Daphne's hand tightly with her own. It was the only affection the two dared express so openly. By now everyone was so accustomed to the two holding hands, no one would have suspected the two had been lovers since the end of fifth year.

She wanted Blaise to have the loving relationships the two shared. He deserved it, even if it was bound to cause tsunami like waves of controversy when the relationship became known.

"I have you two ladies to thank for it, I believe." They were at the far end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall and though Blaise had drawn a bit of attention within the Slytherin common rooms, no one would ever dare express such and their conversation went relatively unmarked upon as usual.

Before Tracey could comment, the doors of the Great Hall were tossed open to slam against the wall drawing the attention of everyone at the evening meal. No one dare speak as they all waited for the entrance of the one who had caused the disturbance.

Their curiosity was satisfied seconds later when the stranger strode through the doorway. Tracey swallowed back a sigh of appreciation at the man making his way toward the front table. It was echoed by many a student throughout the all.

She was instantly reminded of a Celtic warrior of old. His indigo robes couldn't hide the fact that he was a dark figure of a man. Well over six feet, he was big and powerful with wild Irish beauty. Raven hair, cerulean eyes and rakishly handsome. Despite the graying hair that streaked his temple and through his closely cut beard, this man was dangerous and she didn't need to feel the magic sparking around him to know it.

Professor McGonagall rose from her seat, along with the other Hogwarts Professors to greet the interloper with her wand drawn but resting as a warning at her side. "Excuse me, sir." She spoke in a strong authoritative voice all of her students recognized. "What is the meaning of your presence here this evening?"

"Where is he? Where is Maeve's boy?"

"Forgive me, sir, but you still haven't answered my question. Who are you and what is the reason behind this intrusion?"

"I offer my apologies, madam." The man bowed low in an offer of gentlemanly charm. Several of the younger Professors couldn't resist a smile of pleasure. The Deputy Headmistress was having none of it. "I am sorry for the interruption of your evening meal but I was unavoidably delayed for my meeting this afternoon here at Hogwarts. Please allow me to introduce myself; I am Lord Regan Niallan Roarke of the Ancient and Noble House of Roarke."

He offered a smile then and Tracey could swear she had seen the likes of it before. "I am looking for my great-nephew, Harrigan. Lord Harrigan James Potter."

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

The Order meeting was an exercise in terror. If they were always this loud and disorganized it was a wonder how they stopped any of Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacks. The meeting was held in an old ballroom so it could comfortably seat the more than sixty Order members. Hestia Jones was evidently tasked with the attendance roster, and after confirming the other thirty-five members who were either on assignment or unable to attend Dumbledore called the meeting to order.

Harry received a mixed reception before being allowed to take a seat. From there on things seemed to go wrong with Mrs. Weasley leading the campaign for his removal from the meeting. She seemed determined to mother him into submission, moving from affection to outright manipulation when she realized she wouldn't be getting her way.

The other members already wary of his presence were divided in whom to follow. Remus who had quietly spoken up for his right to attend or Molly who was such a force of nature it was difficult to revolt against her opinions. Septima and Leo had taken his side, both sitting on either side of him in support but they were new members and any influence they might have had was quickly overridden by Mrs. Weasley.

Moody was all for his presence, demanding to know what Albus was doing to train the boy to meet his destiny but everyone seemed to mark him off as too crazy to know what was proper. Dumbledore simply sat back and watched the show unfold, and Harry had to wonder if this had been in his plans all along.

It was a sad day when he sat in agreement with Snape but the disgust on the potion masters face only seemed to mirror his own feelings.

A small humorless smile spread across his face catching Septima's attention. She nudged him gently, mouthing, 'What?'

He merely shrugged and said aloud, "I'm sure Voldemort doesn't have to sit through such idiocy. He simply Crucios anyone who dares disrupt his meetings. Shame we're the good guys, that's starting to seem like a sound plan."

His offhand comment silenced all arguments completely.

"Quite, Potter," Snape grunted from his chair across the room. "Our little Dark Lord in the making if we're to believe the things Mrs. Weasley is saying."

"That's enough, Severus," Dumbledore spoke with mild disapproval. "If we're all finished with the deliberations regarding Mr. Potter's presence, I believe we have important things to discuss. Perhaps we can start with your report, Severus."

"Are you certain it's safe for the boy to hear this? My position could be compromised by Potter's complete inability to shield his mind from the Dark Lord."

'Well, there went Snape's understanding.' Harry rolled his eyes in abhorrence. Septima responded on his behalf in righteous anger. "Are you suggesting that I am incompetent, Severus? I don't recall your double masteries in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. I thought you merely liked tinkering around with your precious flobberworms."

"You've made your point, Septima," the man growled and Harry gawked in shock. _Snape_ backed down? Snape backed _down? _It was obvious from his annoyed expression that he held some respect for her knowledge and ability.

"The Dark Lord is planning several attacks now that he has returned to full health. I would not be surprised to find Hogsmeade weekend threatened. He also intends to perform a ritual the night of Samhain. I am not privy to the details yet, as he has been keeping his intentions close and only revealing them to those involved."

"We should cancel the Hogsmeade visit," Professor McGonagall suggested, always thinking of the students safety. When she had arrived at the meeting, she had rushed over to Dumbledore to whisper something to him, all the while staring pointedly in his direction. He could only wonder what had happened at school during his absence.

"We can't," Kingsley reasoned. "We have no definite plans and any strong reaction on our part could reveal Severus' role as spy for the Order. Things have to go on as usual."

"But the children," Molly protested.

"With proper protections, the children should be fine," Remus assured, calmly. "Kingsley is correct, we can't show our hand too early. The children of Death Eaters would immediately write home to inform their parents of any unusual actions should Professor Dumbledore cancel the weekend."

"Not if he doesn't do so until the last moment, so the students didn't have the opportunity to inform their parents." Arthur spoke up falling in line with his wife's protests. As the father of two Hogwarts students it was understandable he would want to keep them safe.

"Perhaps if we allowed you-know-who to find out Potter won't be allowed to leave Hogwarts on the visit?"

"He would definitely attack then, making sure to cut down every student he knows has a connection to me," Harry pointed out. Did these people not understand how Voldemort reasoned? They kept speaking of the wizard as if he were capable of rational thought, when he was both evil and insane.

"The best you can do is increase the guard and make sure the older students keep an eye on the younger years. If Voldemort is determined to slaughter the village, my absence will only serve as an inducement. We should be worried about what kind of ritual Voldemort could be performing and why he chose Samhain."

"And why should we listen to anything Potter has to say," a loud voice he didn't recognize countered from in the back of the room. "He's just a boy. A child. he has no idea how to fight a war. He shouldn't even be here in the first place."

Things deteriorated again from there.


	17. Chapter 17

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter Verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

The storage box wasn't as large as his school trunk but the things it held were infinitely more important to Harry. It was bound in the skin of a Chinese fireball, a worn scarlet dragon hide that looked as if it had passed through many generations of Potters before finally being delivered into his care. On the lid was the Potter coat of arms, a classic shaped shield of sable with crimson and white trimming with the family name beneath it in a bold old English script also in sable.

The family motto was carefully printed over the shield while two griffins reared proudly on either side. It had brought him such honor to hear the words his house held in such regard and tried to live their lives by. For the one thing he had wished for all of his life was the one thing his house held in reverence. Family. He ran his fingers over the three interlocking annulets above a sword crossed with a wand that were the Potter heraldic symbols making a solemn vow to try to live up to the trust that had been placed in his hands.

"Familia fideles defendit," he murmured tapping his wand to the lock and heard three distinctive snaps before the lid cracked open for him. The top tray held two smaller boxes which opened to the same trigger. Inside the first was a crystal wand similar to the one he gave Hermione for her birthday. It was made of moonstone, its pearly sheen protected by an ornate mythril handle with a ball of onyx on the end.

The other box held a mythril anthame, the handle bound in the same fireball hide the box was covered in. Harry slipped the dagger from its matching sheath, allowing the light to gleam off the sharp edge. He knew crystal wands were used in more complex and intimate rituals and charms but this dagger had the feel of combat to it. He could feel the magic residue from spells being cast through it. He had no idea magic could be focused through an object other than a wand but the metal itself was probably the conduit.

The Potter house must have a much respected relationship with the goblins to have been gifted with such complex and beautiful works as these.

Eager to see what else remained in the box, he lifted the tray to reveal another and had to wonder just how deep this box went. This time a hide covered book box was discovered, which he opened to find a black hide covered book. His family name was printed on the cover in old English. He didn't need a password for the moment his hand touched the book, its pages began to shuffle wildly.

"Welcome young Lord to the family Grimoire. The knowledge bound between these pages is to be used in service to the Divine. Keep well to our dictums. Keep our secrets. And may your life be blessed. So mote it be."

Before he could investigate further, the door was flung open by an eager faced Ron. His eyes widened comically upon seeing him sitting on the bed. "Hermione, he's up here!"

The sounds of footsteps rushing up the staircase was followed by not only Hermione but Neville, Dean, Seamus and even Ginny. As Hermione stopped in the door way, it was rather humorous as the rest all crowded behind her trying to see beyond where she was blocking their view. By the time Hermione finally stepped out of the way and allowed the others to enter, Harry was barely holding back a snort of laughter.

"Harry! Where have you been! You'll never guess what happened at dinner!"

"My Great uncle arrived," he answered calmly, enjoying the shocked expressions on their faces as he ruined their big news.

"How did you-"

"Professor McGonagall told me. Dumbledore put him in the guest quarters for the night and I'm to have breakfast with him in the morning. McGonagall gave me an excused absence for the day as well but I think I'll be able to make my afternoon classes."

It shouldn't take that long to figure out why his long lost relative hadn't tried to see him in the past fifteen years. Harry couldn't account for the first year and a half of his life, seeing as he didn't remember them. Judging from his track record, Harry knew Dumbledore played a role but he still wanted to hear what this Lord Roarke had to say in his own defense before he passed judgment.

"Hey, mate, what's with the clothes?"

Ron's question had Harry glancing down as he remembered he hadn't taken off the clothes he'd borrowed from Neville yet. "I had a meeting with Gringotts this afternoon. Neville was kind enough to allow me to snitch a few of his things."

"Looking good, my Lord," Seamus snickered, wiggling his brows.

"The entire school's talking about it, Harry. Especially with the big scene your great uncle caused," Dean explained, sitting down on his bed so he wouldn't miss a word.

"Did everything go well with the goblins?" Neville asked, more concerned with how Harry was feeling than the gossip.

"As well as can be expected. I figure for the next five years I'm going to be swamped in ledgers and parchment trying to keep the estate and all the people depending on me from starving. It helps that Colfax is a business genius, has the patience of a saint and is willing to teach me the things I should have been learning years ago."

Ron had no comment but Harry watched him very carefully for his reaction. It was better than he expected really. Ron hadn't said a degrading word about him having money but he was staring at the Potter ring on his finger. Ginny on the other hand was already crossing the room, her hand reaching out toward the open boxes on his bed.

"What's this anyway?"

"Things from the Potter estate," Harry hurriedly explained, closing the boxes for the anthame and the wand and setting them inside the tray. She glared at him, folding her arms across her chest and Harry barely restrained a grimace as he recalled the same posture on her mother early that evening. It was easy to ignore her because none of it was her business anyway.

"And why can't we see," Ginny demanded, instead of backing off as she should have. He had to wonder where she got this sense of entitlement from. Yes, Ron was his best friend but that didn't mean she could demand explanations from him whenever she liked.

Judging from the elder Weasleys' reactions to him at dinner, and Ron and Ginny's at Hermione's birthday, he might have to rethink his associations with the Weasley family if they were going to try to impose their beliefs upon him. Bill looked like he had enough issues between his mother and Fleur to worry about Harry and Charlie was in Romania with his dragons so Harry didn't know what he thought. The only ones he had yet to hear from were the twins and while devoted to their family, he couldn't honestly see them trying to force Harry to do anything he didn't want. It just didn't fit in with their character.

"Because it's my family Ginny and it's rather personal. I won't be sharing this with anyone."

"But we're your friends, you should be able to share it with us," Ginny insisted.

"Ginny, really," Hermione stepped forward to nudge the persistent redhead aside. "These are things from Harry's family. If he doesn't feel comfortable sharing them with us, he doesn't have to."

Even though it seemed she was taking his side, Harry couldn't help hearing the underlying message that _he_ didn't trust them enough, so therefore he was at fault. It wasn't worth the quarrel to respond, so he simply packed up the boxes into the larger storage container and sealed it before anyone could offer further argument.

"So where were you tonight anyway?" Ron asked as he made his way across the room to sit on his own bed.

"I had some things to take care of with Dumbledore." It wasn't that Seamus and Dean couldn't be trusted, merely they weren't supposed to know about the Order. "That's where I saw McGonagall and she told me about my great uncle."

"I still can't believe it Harry. After all these years you actually have family and not those muggle relatives of yours either. I wonder where he's been all this time though," Ron shrugged having asked aloud what Harry had been mentally contemplating only moments before.

His stomach decided to make itself known with a loud gurgle causing everyone to laugh at him. He had intended to get something to eat before he left the Order meeting seeing as his dinner had been ruined but he had been so disgusted with the adults who were supposed to be the major force against Voldemort he had left with Septima when she decided to return to Hogwarts instead.

"I can ask Whimsy to bring you something Harry," Neville offered but he just shook his head. Better to get this out of the way now.

"Hobbes," he snapped his fingers, which brought on several things at once. Ron and Ginny gasped, Hermione's face was a cross between astonishment and growing anger and of course his valet popped into the room.

"How may I help you Master Harry?" The intelligent little elf bowed before clasping his hands behind his back.

"Harry! You just summoned that house elf!"

"Yes, I did Hermione," he said really slowly as if talking to a small child. It was pretty obvious he had called the house elf, wasn't it. "Hobbes, how are you settling in at the castle?"

"Its operation is quite different from Griffin Keep, my Lord, but the others have been very welcoming."

"Good. You know you're welcome to return to the Keep to visit whenever you're missing your family, Hobbes."

"I shall be fine, Master Harry. I've been preparing for this time with you for many years."

"If you're certain," Harry asked and the little elf nodded once, so Harry decided to leave the matter for the moment. He intended to travel to the Keep during winter break anyway. "Hobbes, I missed dinner this evening and I'm actually starving now. As it's so late, I really don't want to eat anything heavy, do you have any suggestions?"

"How about a bowl of soup, my Lord, and perhaps a small fruit salad."

"Does it have vegetables in it? Leo's going to kill me; I haven't been following my dietary guidelines lately, so I should try to get back on track with that."

"I can bring a light beef and vegetable soup if you prefer."

"Yes, please, that sounds great actually. And I'll need a glass of milk as well, not pumpkin juice. Thank you Hobbes." With another one of those bows, Hobbes snapped his fingers and disappeared leaving him to face the considerable wrath of one Hermione Granger.

"Would you mind telling me Harry, why you have a house elf! You know that they're little more than slaves!"

"The house elves in service to my family are there voluntarily Hermione."

"You have more than one!"

"Each of them has been offered their freedom. They all receive a uniform, an education and work for room and board at the keep and receive a mutually agreed upon stipend each month," he told her trying to keep the situation under control. "You saw Hobbes, Hermione. Did he look abused or mistreated? Or even unhappy?"

"He called you Master."

"As most servants address their employers, both human and house elf, especially of the Ancient and Noble Houses," Neville added in his defense. "It's a sign of respect, not degradation. You really should know better. Harry would never consent to owning anyone and the Potter Lords have fought against the mistreatment of magical creatures for many years. Jumping to conclusions is an insult to someone who is supposed to be your best friend."

"What I want to know is how Harry gets his own house elf," Seamus asked.

"All the Lords of the Ancient and Noble Houses are allowed a valet," Ginny answered before either he or Neville had the chance. "I'm just surprised to see Harry falling in with this pureblood stuff. He almost looked like Malfoy, snapping his fingers and commanding house elves."

"And just how do you know that?" Dean wondered of his ex-girlfriend, choosing to ignore the rest of her diatribe about Harry.

"My family is pureblooded, regardless of the rubbish Malfoy spouts about us, we do know the Wizarding traditions."

"Just not the old ways," Harry couldn't help but pointing out. He knew it would cause an argument but he was getting tired of Ginny at this point.

"Exactly," she agreed as if he was complimenting her, missing the sarcasm entirely or choosing to pretend she had. "Seeing as Harry has decided to join the ranks of the Malfoys, enslaving house elves was just the next step. He'll be marking his followers in no time."

"I think you should leave now," Neville suggested in a tone of voice that had the others in the room staring back at him in surprise and appreciation. He held his hand in a manner where his heir's ring could be clearly seen. Not only had Ginny insulted him but all of the Ancient and Noble houses, of which the Longbottoms were a member.

"Neville, I didn't mean that the way it sounded," she immediately tried to apologize.

"You've said more than enough about the Ancient and Noble houses, purebloods and the old ways. Thrice insulted, I am. As you have no idea what you've done, I'm not surprised you would speak with such ignorance. And if I were a less understanding person, I would call you and your kin accountable."

No one ever believed Neville Longbottom to be a powerful wizard, but Harry knew better. Back in the Department of Mysteries, the two of them had been the last standing in their face off with the Death Eaters. Despite his fears, Neville had the strength of will to stand for what he believed in and persevere through spite and ridicule. That only proved why he had been the other child who the prophecy could have been made for.

It was clear now he was not a wizard to be underestimated any longer.

"I'm sorry." Ginny murmured, glancing around at the faces holding disapproval at her actions. When she realized no one was going to take her side, not even Ron, she stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Dean was the first to look guilty, so he stood from the bed and gestured to where the humiliated redhead had stormed off. "I'm going to go see if she's okay."

"I'll go with you, mate," Seamus offered joining his best friend so they could catch Ginny before she made it up the stairs to the girls' dorms.

Hobbes chose that moment to return with his light meal. The tray held a serving of stew rich with herbs and vegetables like carrots, parsnips and tender pieces of braised beef. A large Parker House roll accompanied it, along with an avocado, grapefruit and melon salad covered in a light mint dressing. After thanking Hobbes, his friends gave him a few minutes of eating before curiosity beset them.

"So what happened tonight at the meeting, Harry?" Hermione asked, eager to hear the details of the meetings they had wanted to attend all last year. "That's where you were right?"

"Yes," he relented tearing a large bite out of the roll, groaning at the light taste. "And nothing much happened really. They spent so much time arguing over stupid things that there wasn't much accomplished."

"What were they arguing over?" Neville asked, sitting down on the bed across from him.

"Whether or not I should be allowed to attend. If I had a right to voice my opinions. How a child like me could possibly know about War." Harry rolled his eyes, getting angry all over again at the memory of so many people doubting him and casting him aside as if he didn't matter. When in the next moment they would be expecting him to save them from the man whose name they couldn't even bear to hear, let alone speak.

"That's stupid," Ron shook his head. "You've faced Voldemort at least five times and lived to tell, none of them can say the same."

"I didn't expect them to treat me like Dumbledore but I thought I was at least entitled to some respect regardless. I'm not even sure what they think of me. Am I the boy-who-lived? The Chosen One like the Daily Prophet likes to claim? The arrogant brat Snape decrees me? A child who should leave the war to the so called capable adults and not get anymore people killed?"

"Oh, Harry. You mustn't think like that," Hermione sighed in commiseration.

"At this point, 'Mione, I don't care what the members of the Order believe. If all of their meetings are like that I want nothing to do with them."

"But the Order is the only ones making an effort to fight Voldemort, of course you need them," she insisted.

"And isn't that just the mark of the sad state of affairs in the Wizarding world," Harry sneered. "I'm not going to run off and do something foolish Hermione, you don't have to worry about that but neither am I going to sit back and do nothing. I won't allow them to pat me on the head and tell me to sit in a corner like a good boy only to take me out when they need their weapon."

He would use them just as they intended to use him to fight their war. He would attend the order meetings for information, renew his subscription to the news publications so that he would know what was going on and begin to formulate his own plan of action. He couldn't fight Voldemort right now but when the day came for them to meet again, he wouldn't be hiding behind anymore statues letting someone else cast the spells for him.

There was one thing he could start with right now. "Neville, I need your help."

"Of course," the other quickly agreed.

"I need to know everything there is in the old ways about Samhain."

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

The next morning had him up at his normal time for his run and Professor McGonagall waiting for him in the common room after he showered and dressed. Their walk down to his Great Uncle's rooms was mostly silent, with his teacher informing him that the students were now all aware of his status as Lord. It was probably mere formality, for she had to know his friends would tell him. She added that he should come to her if he had any difficulties but as much as he respected her, McGonagall was too close to Dumbledore for him to ever feel comfortable sharing his secrets with her.

The door was answered by a house elf dressed in a white shirt and dark brown knickerbockers with a matching waistcoat specially made for its tiny body. It bowed to the Professor but when his it's eyes finally reached him, they widened brightly as it clasped its hands together practically bouncing. Harry flinched, preparing for anything, especially a Dobby reaction.

"My Lord!" The House elf bowed quickly as if he couldn't bear taking his gaze away. His rather deep voice had the same lilt Seamus' carried. "It's yous!"

"Yes, it's me," Harry agreed, not knowing what to say to such an enthusiastic greeting.

"Perhaps you can inform Lord Roarke that his great-nephew is here?" McGonagall suggested, taking pity on him in hopes of moving the house elf along.

"Yes! Yes! Bairre tells Master Regan right away. Please comes in."

The excited elf flashed away after letting them into the quarters. The sitting room was warm and inviting without the touches of any of Hogwarts Houses. Instead it was decorated in warm browns and ivory with heavy masculine furniture that inspired comfort.

A door across the room opened and Harry felt his breath catch. The Lord of the House of Roarke emerged attired in simple black trousers and an indigo tunic looking stately and ruggedly handsome. He carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence that was only enhanced by the gray in his hair and beard.

"Well finally, Maeve's boy."

A broad grin spread across his face, relaxed and affectionate, that seemed so familiar to Harry. It took him a moment to realize it was the same one that graced his own face. Before he knew it, he was enfolded in the man's arms in a hug tight enough to squeeze the air from his lungs. For a moment he was tempted to sink into the embrace, allowing the warm welcome to surround him. To heal all the wounds of his heart. Yet he had been hurt too many times to take this stranger on faith. There were too many questions he needed answers to before he could ever consider allowing this man into his life, no matter how great his hugs were.

"Good morning, my Lord," he managed to wheeze out and was finally released.

Brilliant cobalt eyes were direct and sparked with emotion as large hands gripped his shoulders. "We'll be having none of that, Harrigan. I'm your Uncle Regan." He nodded as if the matter had been settled then turned to the Professor to offer a charismatic smile. "Thank you for bringing him to me, madam."

It was a dismissal, a gentle one, but clearly a request for the Deputy Headmistress to leave them. "Of course, my Lord. Professor Dumbledore, asked me to convey a request for a moment of your time this afternoon, if you would be so kind."

"Professor Dumbledore can kiss my arse and damned well knows it, if you'll pardon my language," his uncle's voice had gone from generous to cold in the space of seconds surprising not only him but the Professor as well. "I'll not be paying a call on Albus Dumbledore anytime soon and he insults the both of us by having you relay this request. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to speak with Harrigan alone."

She didn't know whether she should be offended at the harsh words but nevertheless took her leave of them with a small incline of her head in acquiesce. When they were finally alone, his uncle turned that keen gaze back in his direction. "Bet you're wondering where the hell I've been all of your life, aren't you lad?"

The blunt honesty while disarming was a pleasant change from the games, riddles and innuendo he was normally given. "Yes sir, that thought did cross my mind." He decided to return the favor, speaking frankly as well.

Thick brows creased in thought before one corner of his Uncle Regan's mouth pulled into a smirk. "Good, I'm glad some of Maeve's mettle is in there." His shoulders were released as a hand gestured to the round table already set for two for the morning meal.

"We'll discuss things over our morning meal. Bairre?" Regan snapped his fingers and the same house elf that answered the door popped into the room but he had two large trays hovering behind him. "We're ready to break our fast, Bairre."

"Yes, Master Regan."

The large breakfast consisted of thick porridge sweetened lightly with brown sugar, fat sausages and rashers of bacon, eggs, stewed apples and raisins, potato pancakes and thick slices of fresh brown bread still warm and covered with sweet creamy butter. His uncle was given a dark aromatic cup of coffee while Harry opted for both milk and orange juice after choosing a little of everything offered. This earned him a thoughtful nod of approval from the man sitting across from him.

He was a bit surprised when a large calloused hand gripped his own and a rich baritone began the morning blessing. The result of their swirling, intertwining magic had a pang of melancholy twisting in his chest. It was so comforting, the way their magic mingled so easily. Harry had to wonder why he didn't have this growing up when he so desperately needed it. Why was he denied his family?

"How," he stopped and cleared the thick emotion from his throat, "How did you know I followed the old ways?"

"I didn't," his uncle answered turning to face him and Harry could see the man was just as deeply affected as he had been. "I thought living with those muggles, it would be something I'd have to teach you. I'm pleased to know you've found the way on your own. Sometimes, the path is clearer when voluntarily chosen."

Regan took a drink of coffee, then set the cup down, elbows braced atop the table and fingers laced together. Harry knew their conversation would begin now. "When the goblins informed me you wished to see me, I requested that I be allowed to explain the circumstances of around my absence in your life. You may contact them to check the veracity of my words. I ask only that you allow me to speak my peace before you ask any questions."

"Alright," he agreed, starting in on his breakfast to give his uncle a chance to speak.

"Your grandma Maeve was the youngest of us Roarkes. Our only sister. A quiet lass and so very beautiful, she could charm the stars from the sky with her smile." The love in his voice was evident as was the sorrow at her death even now several years later. "You've the look of her, though the stamp of Potter is undeniable. Slender, bit small but such strong magic. You have that same fae-like aura 'bout you. Same as Maeve."

He had always thought his height and size was due to the abuse and malnutrition he suffered from the Dursleys and here this man was telling him it could possibly be attributed to his grandmother. He didn't know how he should feel about that but it didn't change the abuse for he was still taking potions to counter the effects.

"When that Potter boy came sniffing around, we were all set to light a fire under his arse and send him back to Deckmoor where he belonged. Maeve was having none of it. She wanted Philip Potter and there would be no further discussion."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Harry felt obligated to defend his grandfather.

"English upstart. Wasn't good enough for our Maeve," his uncle growled but Harry could tell it was more good natured than contrary. "And of course she had the four of us firmly wrapped around her dainty little finger, so what Maeve wanted we were sure to give her."

He tried to imagine the woman his uncle spoke of. She would be a lady of small stature with the black hair of a starless night, and the same intense blue eyes like his uncle. A woman who was strong enough to follow her convictions and beloved by four protective older brothers willing to grant her heart's desires. What kind of man had his grandfather been to capture the affections of a woman like that?

"They loved each other?" He asked in a tentative voice.

"Oh, aye, Harrigan. They loved each other. Deeply," Regan sighed heavily, a flash of anguish in his expression and gone the next moment. Harry looked up as a large hand cupped his cheek with more tenderness than he would think it capable. It was such a Sirius gesture, that he bit his lip to hold back the surge of memory the touch brought forth. He didn't think he would ever have that again.

"The War was harsh on our family," Regan continued on, returning to his meal to give them both the opportunity to compose themselves. "It took my youngest brother Harrigan first," Regan nodded in Harry's direction. "You were named for him. Your father was mad for him, as the two had so much in common with their pranks and easy laughter."

He had wondered where his name originated. It was with no small measure of pride to know he held the same as the uncle his father had been close to.

"Then Cian was lost routing Death Eaters from one of our tenant's lands. We Roarkes were always up for a good fight and Cian more than all of us, especially when those bastards were targeting one of ours."

"I didn't know Voldemort's campaign had extended to Ireland?"

"The bastard wanted control of all the remaining Ancient and Noble houses. When he was denied, he resorted to destroying the ones who refused. It is the way, isn't it. To covet what you can never have."

It certainly was, Harry realized. Voldemort would have learned about the Ancient and Noble houses and been enraged that his beloved ancestor Salazar Slytherin wasn't apart of the thirteen. It wouldn't be enough to have the purebloods bowing at his feet and kissing his robes. It must have burned to have the Houses turn him aside either with neutrality or outright refusal.

"When we lost Maeve, we were hit the hardest. She was our heart you see. Your father was inconsolable, he adored his parents. It focused him, their deaths. Made him determined to see Voldemort stopped. Before then, I don't think the war was real for him as he was a mere lad still in school. Afterwards, he was determined to see the end of the wizard who was tearing his family apart. That's why when we heard about your parents deaths we fought so hard for you."

"What?" His mind whirled at the significance of his words, " I don't understand, I've never heard about this."

"I'm not surprised. Dumbledore wouldn't want you to know how he kept you from your rightful family. You have to understand, things were bad back then. Verra bad. Brothers turning against brothers. Friends betraying friends. Trust was hard to come by and Dumbledore wasn't taking chances with you, their savior."

He knew something about that kind of betrayal, harry mused. Wormtail had destroyed his family by revealing their location to Voldemort and then stolen years with Sirius and Remus from Harry by faking his death and laying the blame on his enraged, grieving godfather. Everyone explained how dark times were back then and he could understand that fear but it always, always, came back to Dumbledore. The Wizarding world placed so much faith and trust in the Headmaster, it was no wonder he believed he could maneuver people around like pieces on a chess board under his command.

"We heard of your parents deaths at the same time as everyone else in the Wizarding world. Dumbledore didn't have the decency to tell us. No he was too busy formulating his plans to bother with such courtesies as those. I went to see him for I'd heard about Blacks betrayal and knew as your godfather he would have been the most obvious choice as your guardian. I wanted to know if your parents had made other arrangements for you and if not, I would take you back home and raise you myself."

"He told you about the blood wards?" Harry posed, trying to understand Dumbledore's thinking.

"Yes. And why would I accept those cursed things, I asked him. Wasn't I your blood as well?"

"You were listed as my guardian in my parents will, did they tell you they were doing it?"

"No they didn't, they may not have had the chance. I only saw you once after you were born. Afterwards, my own daughter gave birth to her twins. Your parents sent an owl telling me they were going into hiding and wouldn't be able to contact me for a while. I'm not surprised to be named guardian, as your father wouldn't have trusted anyone else with you other than family."

The goblins told him the will hadn't been read so that went in Dumbledore's favor, enabling him to take advantage of the loophole that left him at the mercies of the Dursleys. If a muggle couldn't have the will read, no one could challenge Dumbledore's choice.

"When I demanded to see you, he was very gracious, very apologetic with his denial but I wasn't to be allowed to see you. He guaranteed you were safe, gave his word, but if he allowed anyone with magical ability to visit, it would be possible for any remaining Death Eaters to find you."

"He used what happened to the Longbottoms as proof," Harry sat back, the remainder of his meal forgotten as the thoroughness of Dumbledore's actions struck him. It was almost like the fates themselves had agreed with the elder wizard to keep him trapped with relatives who despised him rather than see him raised with a loving family.

"Yes he did. He spun a sorrowful tale about how the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom was nearly decimated, the Lord a victim of the cruciatus curse and the heir without both parents, almost a victim of Death Eaters himself. "

"So that's why you believed him?"

"I told him I didn't give a ruddy fuck about the Longbottoms."

Harry choked on the swallow of milk he had just taken. His fit of coughing earned him two sharp swats to the back before his throat cleared enough for him to breathe properly. "You what?"

"Did he honestly think Death Eaters were going to keep me away? He kept refusing until I was forced to take him before the Wizengamot."

"And they agreed with him."

"Yes, sadly, as Chief Warlock he was able to order a small session with select members who were proven light wizards. The suit and all of its documents were sealed after the rendered judgment in Dumbledore's favor. None of them were willing to challenge Dumbledore's authority, still too afraid of Voldemort and too in awe of their savior. The last thing they wanted was a Lord from a different country with questionable magic practices coming in to steal their precious savior."

"Questionable magic practices?" Harry raised a brow in query.

"Oh, a Roarke is willing to get the job done by any means necessary. Dumbledore is more in favor of mercy and reform. I prefer a good killing curse for the monsters who like to slaughter families and rape women and children."

He couldn't disagree with his uncle's reasoning. Before performing the protection ritual with Septima, he had seen some of the cruelty Voldemort was capable of. "They respect Dumbledore too much to go against him."

"And I lost the case. It was determined you would remain where you were. Hidden and safe with your muggle relatives."

"And you gave up then?"

"Honestly, Harrigan. If you learn nothing else about me, know that I'm a stubborn bastard and I don't give up on what I want easily. It took me a while to locate the muggles house but a month later and the right spell I was standing on their front lawn ready to steal you away from them."

"So what happened?"

"Didn't count on the wards. They were supposedly turned to any magical signature that meant to cause you harm and evidently wanting to kidnap you away from the muggles despite the fact that you're my great nephew and I loved you was considered trying to cause you harm. Before I could even get inside the house, the alarms for the wards were going off and I was surrounded by Ministry Aurors."

"But you're my uncle! Shouldn't the blood wards been able to distinguish that?"

"Any magic wielding being would have set the alarms off, Harry. As a Lord they were afraid to lodge any real charges against me but I was forbidden from contacting you in anyway until you initiated it first. I would have risked it, stolen you away but the muggles never brought you outside the house. You were five years old when I saw you again for the first time. I thought it would have terrified you to be kidnapped from the only family you ever knew."

"Not as much as you think," he muttered.

"And what does that mean?" Regan demanded, the fury in his voice making him flinch. "Harrigan, answer me. What does, not as much as I think mean? Did those bastards harm you in any way?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It bloody well does matter!" A fist slammed down hard on the table making it shake. Harry would have laughed, as he realized how much his temper resembled that of his uncle's. He had done the exact same thing the night before while talking to Mrs. Weasley.

He placed his hand over the clenched one that was trembling under the force of his uncle's fury. When their eyes met, Harry gave him a small smile, appreciating the rage on his behalf but it was not necessary. It didn't matter about the blood wards, or what Voldemort could do, he wasn't returning to 4 Privet Drive ever again. He had choices now. Deckmoor and Griffin Keep awaited him and now there was even this man. _Family._

"I survived, that's all that matters."


	18. Chapter 18

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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**Chapter Eighteen**

**Autumn Equinox Dark Sacrifice Discovered**

_It was a grisly scene discovered by Aurors Wednesday evening after an anonymous owl was sent to the Ministry's Department of Law Enforcement. The small village of Maleshire, located in West Country was reduced to ash and death in what appeared to be a heinous mockery of an Autumn Equinox ritual._

_Traditionally this Equinox is a time of balance, and the occasion to celebrate the stability of the hearth and home. What occurred in Maleshire was anything but a joyous commemoration._

_Maleshire was a small rural community, home to many muggle-born witches and wizards, squibs and muggles who were aware of the Wizarding world. It was one of few communities of our society where the magical and mundane lived in accord._

"_It was horrific," one Auror who chose to remain nameless was able to report. "At the center of the town, someone built a stone alter and surrounded it with a circle formed with bones. Every child under the age of eleven was within it. The babies even. Slaughtered all of them. Their blood soaked the ground like water after a rainstorm. I've never seen anything so vile in all my life." _

_What has Aurors stumped are the one hundred and twenty inhabitants of Maleshire who are still unaccounted for. No remains of any person over the age of twelve, male or female, magical or muggle, could be found amongst the ruins of this desecrated village bar one. _

_This reporter was informed through a reliable but confidential source that a pregnant muggle-born witch, later identified as Martha Entwhistle, was killed on the altar. Her throat and wrists cut open by a ceremonial dagger left on the scene. The child she carried was torn from her womb via a macabre caesarean section but it's remains have not been recovered. Near her were the remnants of rotten fruits and vegetables, wilted bloodroot and black hellebore as well as sprigs of yew. Also found were the residue of the heart and powdered horn of a Romanian Longhorn dragon as well as the shells of a runespoor eggs._

_The perpetrators of this massacre haven't been identified though it is believed to be the work of You-Know-Who. However it should be noted the revealing signature of known Death Eaters wasn't seen over the village._

_No one knows the purpose of this grizzly mass murder but it proves that darkness is on the rise in the Wizarding World. _

_--Rohan Smythe, reporter_

For perhaps the first time ever, the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was still. Students at each table who held a copy of the Thursday morning edition of the Daily Prophet sat in utter horror as their eyes raced first over the bold headline and then the revealing article that followed. Those who were able leaned over shoulders hoping to see what could cause such a reaction in their classmates only to meet the same terrified conclusion.

"Students, may I have your attention please."

The Headmaster stood at the head table with his own copy of the sensational newspaper gripped tightly in his fist. His normally cheerful expression and twinkling blue eyes were grim with a despair that no one had ever seen on the wizened man's face before.

"In light of today's edition of the Daily Prophet, I am suspending classes for the rest of the week." It was a sign of the other students' shock that the announcement went without reaction or comment.

"For any student who wishes council, please seek your Head of House who will be available to answer any questions you may have. These tragic events serve to remind us, how precious life is and it should be cherished. Prefects please escort the students back to the dorms. Meals will be served in respective common rooms for the day."

After the Headmaster concluded his speech and moved to depart, furious whispers began to spread from one end of the hall to the other, still pointing at the article. The shocking accompanying picture depicted the burned out ruins of the buildings of Maleshire, proving how much time had already passed before the murders were discovered.

"Are you alright Tracey?"

The color had drained from his friend's face who sat utterly still, as she stared down at the publication that lay on top of her uneaten meal. She held her arms stiffly at her sides, as if she didn't dare touch the offensive paper again.

"My father," she whispered, barely loud enough so that he and Daphne could hear. "This is what the Dark Lord sent my father out collecting ingredients for."

"You don't know that for a fact, Tracey," Daphne tried to comfort the brunette but even Blaise could hear the lie in her words.

"Mother wrote me just yesterday. He still hasn't returned to the Manor."

That didn't sound good at all. If this was the Dark Lord's opening salvo, he dreaded to think what his next plans were. "I remember her," he finally spoke up. "Martha Entwhistle. She was a seventh year Ravenclaw during our first year."

"Look at Professor Flitwick, he's devastated," Tracey shook her head, guilt a pensive shimmer in her eyes. They watched as the inconsolable instructor was escorted from the table by Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey. This wasn't her fault but Blaise knew she couldn't help but feel responsible if her father really had given the Dark Lord those ingredients to perform this ritual and kill all those people.

He wasn't the only one upset by the revelation, as several mournful sobs had erupted from the Ravenclaw table. Professors Vector and McGonagall were already moving in that direction to try to calm the situation but the hysteria had already spread over to the Hufflepuffs. Blaise couldn't imagine what was going through everyone's mind. He wondered if anyone here at school knew someone who lived in that village. If they were among the children murdered or the missing.

He risked a glance over at the Gryffindor table, at Harry. Everyone talked around him but was very careful not to speak directly to Harry at all. No one was willing to risk meeting the cold rage that stared back from those verdant eyes. It was a seething fury that he didn't think someone like Harry could ever be capable of feeling. That gaze was filled with a promise of retribution Blaise had never before witnessed.

"I can't believe how much detail they printed," Daphne murmured, her hand clenching at Tracey's tightly. It was the only visible source of comfort the two could offer each other for fear of retaliation within their House. Slytherins were supposed to be collected and remote. They weren't supposed to care about a village of muggles, muggle-borns and squibs that had been slaughtered like animals.

It was the first time he had ever felt hatred for his house.

"Confidential source my ass," Tracey spat but was quickly nudged by Daphne before attention could be drawn in their direction. "I wouldn't be surprised if this source wasn't there rounding up those children to be sacrificed," her voice choked off on her rising emotions.

The younger Slytherins looked like they were on the verge of tears but it didn't escape his notice that many of their fellow upper classmen didn't seem surprised by this news at all.

Malfoy, though his expression was as bland as the rest of his compatriots, couldn't conceal the smug gleam of excitement in his icy grey eyes. Blaise had to resist the urge to reach across the table and wring the bastard's neck for daring to find pleasure in such an abomination.

The senseless slaughter of innocent children was horrible enough but to desecrate a ritual of the old ways was blasphemous. It wasn't the usual dark magic Wizarding society normally condemned. This was something else entirely. If the Dark Lord dared this, he was nothing short of evil and it proved he and those who followed him were damned.

"What's going to happen to us, Blaise?" Tracey whimpered. "Why didn't we feel this during our ritual at Equinox? Why weren't we strong enough to feel this? There must have been some way we could have stopped this from happening."

"It doesn't mean we weren't strong enough," Daphne insisted.

"It simply means this was hidden purposefully and whoever cast the concealment spell was stronger than our Coven. We know the Dark Lord is the most powerful dark wizard who ever lived and he has the magic of three Ancient and Noble Houses at his disposal, including one of the oldest of us all." Blaise reminded her.

"He's going to destroy the Wizarding world and there is no one able to stop him," Tracey said in a dull and disquieting voice that sent foreboding shivers down his spine.

Blaise thought back to the thunderous expression on Harry Potter's face. "I hope you're wrong about that."

* * *

_**FSFSFS**_

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The drill was simple.

Harry started at the back wall on one side of the classroom. When Leo fired a curse at him, typically something simple like the disarming charm, he was to block it with a using the shielding charm before he started running toward the other wall as fast as he could. They had been working on this drill for almost a week now and Harry was finally getting comfortable with the newest form of agility training he had privately dubbed Hex Potter's Bits version three.

Leo had offered to put off today's training but the last thing he wanted was more hours sitting in the Gryffindor common room listening to his dorm mates ranting about how Slytherin was so unaffected by the murders plastered all over the front page of the Daily Prophet. He saw the hurt and fear on the faces of the younger students. The uneasiness that no mask could ever conceal in the eyes of Blaise, Tracey and Daphne. It was unfair to blame them all for things they had no control over.

Now all he wanted was the pain of training to take him away from the fear in the eyes of everyone around him who were looking to him for answers. Answers he wasn't ready to give them. After a few hours of physical exertion he would shower and change and join Neville and Hermione in their research into Samhain. He also wanted to know what the hell Voldemort was doing in a small village sacrificing their children in a gruesome ritual and what had happened to everyone else in Maleshire.

Usually during this drill, just before he reached the other wall, another spell would be cast and he was supposed to dodge, roll, come to his feet and run back in the opposite direction. He was only allowed to cast a defensive spell when he was running toward the wall he originated and only after completing the dodge and roll sequence.

This process continued with the strength of spells increasing and the amount of time between casting reduced to mere seconds. At one point he was running only a few steps before ducking a spell rolling across the floor to avoid another, jumping to his feet to cast one of his own before racing away as fast as his tired legs could carry him.

When he was finally forced to the center of the room, he was able to vary his rolls more, going both back and forth as well as side to side. Leo enjoyed putting him through his paces. The man's spell repertoire was vast and varied from mild jelly legs jinxes to curses so powerful Harry could only hope he dodged them quickly enough. That was usually the time the drill ended and Harry needed to be awakened so he could start all over from the beginning.

"Locomotor mortis," Harry panted out the leg-locker curse too tired to cast silently and it went wild as Leo easily stepped out of it's path and Harry was forced to roll back and away from the impressive stunner headed in his direction.

His magic surged wildly, a gust of air whipping around him, catching the impediment curse that Harry hadn't seen coming at him until it was too late to avoid. Then Leo's spell was practically thrown toward the wall away from him. The dark skinned man paused, frowning at the sparks of magic giving Harry the opening he needed.

"Serpensortia," he murmured with and with a flick of wrist managed to conjure five large boa constrictors, non venomous but not snakes to be fucked around with either. _'Split up, surround him and attack,_' he hissed out in parseltongue, already moving, his steps lighter, faster. The snakes slithered across the room quickly, like the flicks of a cat-o'nine-tails before Leo could spot them.

It felt like the wind was supporting him now, as each step felt less like a trial and his muscles didn't strain as much. Again he dodged a hex, but a pleased smirk curved his lips at Leo's sharp yelp of surprise, as he was forced to banish the two snakes so he wouldn't be attacked.

"Incendio!" The Fire charm was cast with more force than Leo obviously intended, as he had been running on the adrenaline from avoiding the poisonous snakes heading for him. "Harry look out!"

He had every intention of casting a shield, his arm already raised, the motion working through the muscles of his arm when his magic surged again. It burst forth it felt like someone had yanked it up from his gut and out his chest, jerking his body forward in an awkward stumble. Wind caught the flame before it could reach Harry, whipping it around furiously until it formed a small cyclone of fire. He watched the fire dance before him, barely noticing the shadows dancing just at the periphery of his vision. Everything wavered, as he began to feel lightheaded. Then he noticed the sounds, carefree like those only a child could make, almost like giggles.

Whispers, he realized, not noticing how his body swayed dangerously close to the circling flames. There were whispers coming from the fire. If he could just listen a little closer, he would be able to understand what it was saying.

"What," he slurred tilting his head to the side as darkness crept in over his sight . "What did you say?"

"Son of a bitch," was all Harry heard before he was hit with a spray of water and the black took him.

* * *

_FSFSFS_

* * *

"It's about time you woke up."

Septima's amused voice hovered just at the edge of his consciousness. While he was tempted to ignore it and return to the comforting embrace of the deep pool of darkness he was floating in, Harry knew she would only grow more persistent. He became aware of the hard floor underneath him first, though someone had placed something soft beneath his head.

"Where am I," his voice was thick and slurred but he must have made himself clear because she answered him.

"Still in class. You might try opening your eyes, else I'll be forced to get Madam Pomfrey and she'll want you to spend some time in the infirmary."

"I'm up," he blurted, eyes snapping open, only to squeeze shut due to the bright blurred light that tried to permanently blind him.

"Just take it slow, Harry. You expended a great deal of magic, so I'm not surprised you're exhausted. " Gentle fingers brushed strands of hair away from his face before something cool was laid across his forehead. "How does that feel?"

"Good," he murmured, finally feeling up to opening his eyes, he did so gradually this time.

"Just a second," her blurred form moved and returned a moment later, pressing something onto his face and everything cleared. "There, that should be better." Her smile was bright and pleased. "Can I get you some water?"

"That would be brilliant actually, since it feels like I swallowed a kneazle." He was helped up to a sitting position, with his back braced against a wall before she conjured a goblet, filling it using an Aguamenti charm and pressed it carefully into his hand.

"You look tired Harry, and I'm not just talking about from today's training. You've looked that way for days now," Septima began as he was savoring the cool water soothing his dry throat. "I held off seeing if you would speak to someone about it but I see you haven't. I asked Leo to keep an eye on you and if something happened to come get me straight away. Are you still having trouble sleeping?"

"No, that's not it. I just," he set the goblet aside and closed his eyes bracing his head into his hands. "It's just been a long week that's all. Reading that article in the Prophet today didn't help."

"Alright, I guess I can accept that." Septima surprised him, conjuring a large pillow beside him and joining him on the floor.

"Where is Leo anyway?"

"Informing the Headmaster why you haven't returned to the Gryffindor dorms yet. It's after dinner hour Harry, I'm sure your friends have been looking for you."

"I've been out that long?"

"Yes, you have. I didn't think you wanted anyone to know what happened today. So we decided to keep you here. Now are you ready to talk about it now?" The way she looked at him, told Harry that she already had a pretty good idea of what his problem could be. Her next sentence proved it. "I had the opportunity to speak with your great-uncle before he left the castle." She smiled at him then, "Judging from your expression, you've enjoyed having him here."

"Yes, he's different from most of the wizards I've met. I mean, there's Mr. Weasley who has always been kind to me. He has this weird obsession with muggle appliances. Then there is Professor Dumbledore with his bizarre robes and Snape who does a bad impression of a vampire bat. Remus is the closest to normal I've ever met but he has his own hang-ups about being a werewolf."

"Lord Roarke is an original, I agree."

"Mostly, I guess it's just that I don't know what to trust anymore. So much has been hidden from me and supposedly for my own good. Then I meet my uncle and I see everything I could have had as a child and I'm just so bloody angry I could scream."

Septima was the one person he knew he could rely on to be honest with him. She had voluntarily given him a Wizarding Vow not to betray him. Unless she liked flirting with death, she would hold to it. He wanted to believe in his great-uncle but it was hard for to trust where he had been burnt so many times in the past.

"Did you give him a chance to explain?"

"And it merely brought up more questions. Questions that deep down, I already know the answer to, so why even bother with the confrontation." He knew what Dumbledore would say and he just didn't want to face those half-truths and being placated again until the next secret was brought to light for it all to start again.

She placed a hand on his back rubbing in gentle circles spreading the warmth deep into his skin. The comforting gesture was almost his undoing. "Why are you helping me?" As much as he wanted this strange and yet nice friendship with Septima, he needed to know what she was gaining from it.

"When I look at you, I see such a brave young man who carries a terrible burden. How can I do anything less? You fight for the freedom of the Wizarding world. How could I allow you to fight alone when my knowledge could be of some assistance to you? How do I sit aside and watch you grieve and suffer alone and not offer my compassion?"

"The rest of them expect me to fight for them. They never think of picking up their wand and fighting back. Most of them are too frightened to even say Voldemort's name. Then there are articles like today and I realize those people have reason to be terrified. Voldemort is a monster! But why am I the one to face him?"

"Regrettably, that's the way of the world, of human nature. Not everyone is courageous enough to stand up and fight for what's right. Most are too frightened of what it might cost them, whether it's money or their reputation or even their life. Does that mean freedom isn't worth fighting for?"

"No! What kind of person would I be if I allowed Voldemort to take over. I have muggle-born friends and even though my relatives are hateful, I know that doesn't mean all muggles are. But helping me to fight the war doesn't mean you have to be my friend."

"Why shouldn't I be your friend? Is there something about you that prevents you from having friends? Something I should know about you that would make me not want to be your friend?"

"I don't think so," he answered slowly, as some might believe having an insane wizard out to conquer the world and destroy anyone who got in his way a pretty good reason to not offer a hand in friendship.

"Should I be overly dazzled by your charm and good looks and famous reputation instead?"

"That's a trick question, right?"

They both broke into laughter then, well aware of the witches and wizards who didn't bother looking beyond his status as the boy-who-lived to the person beneath.

"This is how friendship works, Harry. I gave you that Wizarding Vow because we live in dangerous times and you needed to know I could be trusted. It's up to you the depths our friendship reach."

"I like talking with you. The only person I could talk to like this was Sirius and even he had his issues. Sometimes his mind would get confused from his years in Azkaban and he behaved like a teenager who hadn't completed his Hogwarts education or he could confuse me with my father but I know he loved me."

"I'm certain he did Harry. You're a boy who is very easy to care about."

"Remus tries, I know but he has his own grief to deal with and his missions for Dumbledore. I would hate to burden him with my troubles."

But as he thought on it more, that feeling of isolation wasn't quite as strong as it used to be. Despite the ever widening gap between him and his friends and the loss of Sirius, he had gained something more this year. First with Septima and Leo who treated him like a little brother, to his growing friendship with Neville, discovering family that he always longed for and even the possibility of Blaise, a relationship he never believed he would have. He was only as alone as he allowed himself to be.

"I think you're not giving Remus a chance because you're afraid."

"He's the last link I have to my parents."

"And you don't want to lose him, so you push him away first."

"I guess so." He took a deep breath and tried to relax but the thought of losing Remus too brought on fears he wasn't yet ready to confront.

"You can't live that way, Harry. Yes, we're fighting a war and people will most certainly die. You don't want to look back years from now and regret the things you should have done or said to the people you care about. You have to live in spite of you know," she paused at his dry glare and smiled. She drew a deep breath in and said clearly, "Voldemort."

"Another convert," Harry joked, rubbing his hands together and cackling maniacally making her burst into laughter as well.

"It isn't enough to stop Voldemort," she began after they had settled down. "In the end what matters is what you're fighting for. Not just for the Wizarding world. But no one else can tell you what to fight for, you have to discover those things that are dear to your heart on your own."

"I guess that's what Dumbledore was trying to do, to manipulate me into caring about the Wizarding world the way he does, so I would be willing to fight for it."

"Yes well, I have to say, I'm a little disillusioned by the Headmaster's actions toward you."

"You're not alone in that."

"I am grateful he allowed me the opportunity to get to know you better. You are a great young man, Harry Potter."

"Thanks," he fidgeted, the material of the sweat pants he wore, smiling shyly at the compliment. "So what do you think caused my magic to go all wonky."

"Wonky," she chuckled, "That's one way of describing it."

"You said if I hadn't found the reason why my magic was acting up, you would tell me."

"So I did, and what have you discovered?"

"Not much."

"I don't think that's true, Harry." She paused and then reached over to the satchel sitting on the chair next to them and retrieved a clean piece of parchment and a quill and passed it to him.

"I'm not here merely to teach you about magic or even Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. I'm here to help you begin to think critically. From what I understand and have observed, you do well in situations that force you to use your instincts. Given some of the things you've told me about your childhood, I believe you were an excellent critical thinker."

"That doesn't. I didn't," he stopped not understanding what she where she was trying to lead him. "I don't understand what you mean."

"I believe the Sorting Hat would call it cunning."

The Sorting Hat had wanted him in Slytherin. Still did even when he had returned and asked a second time. That had frightened him back then because he had allowed the opinions of others he trusted and the reputation of the House to influence his beliefs. In the end, any traits he had that resembled a Slytherin characteristic had been determinedly buried and he had embraced the Gryffindor attributes wholeheartedly.

There was no reason why he couldn't be a combination of both. Brave and cunning. Honorable and Ambitious. Instead he allowed Hermione to become the person he went to if he needed knowledge and adopted Ron's beliefs and prejudices as his own, all because he wanted his best friends to like him.

It was only when he changed the dynamics of their relationship when the troubles started. He wasn't trying to push them aside but the more he changed, seeking knowledge for himself or made choices that were a contradiction, he was badgered or even ridiculed.

Finding the reason why his magic was changing was his responsibility. This wasn't research to be passed off to Hermione or avoided by Ron. He sighed, feeling the weight of adulthood heavily on his shoulders not for the first time this school year. This growing up thing was more complicated than he realized.

"What should I do first?"

"First consider all the things that have been happening in your life lately."

"I've been training a lot, even more than the year of the tournament. Then I was just learning spells. Now I'm more physically active, I'm taking nutrient potions, I'm eating better and getting a lot more sleep than I used to. I've even been using my magic differently." Each of these he wrote down with small explanations underneath, so he could go back and study it.

"So how would you say your magic feels when you cast spells you're already familiar with?"

"Good, I guess. It's so much easier to cast a blasting curse now than it was when I first learned it but that was Leo's goal all along right, for my normal spells to be easier to cast. I can even silently cast the ones that don't require a lot of strength behind them."

"And new spells?"

"I haven't learned that many new ones yet. Leo said he would start those in October. I've always been ahead in Defense class and Charms . Transfigurations was never easy but I don't struggle the way I used to."

"Anything else different?"

"Hmm, I," he paused in writing to think more carefully. "The old ways," he murmured. "I've been learning about the old ways. Incorporating them into my life, you know, the blessings and the private meditations. From the very first time, I've felt more connected with my magic."

"When you were given those protection runes, I had a feeling your magic would begin to change, to grow, and I was right. You see, from the moment you received that curse scar, your magic has been protecting you. It started as a burst of wild magic, and was forced to remain unbalanced until you first started Hogwarts."

Harry thought back to all the times he had been injured by Dudley and his cronies bullying, or the days he would sit crammed in his cupboard hungry. The neglect and abuse. His magic had been protecting and healing him all along. How many hours had he labored under a hot summer sun doing chores with no water or food? It was amazing he hadn't dropped from heat stroke or starvation.

"When you stared Hogwarts you were finally given that focus but then you had to contend with your connection to Voldemort." His magic had protected his mind from Voldemort for years. Yes, he had nightmares and migraines but it had been manageable. It was only after Voldemort's resurrection when their connection was strengthened and hours of useless Legilimency lessons with Snape that his mind and magic been weakened enough that Voldemort was able to possess him.

"The runes gave my magic another focus," he concluded and was rewarded with a bright smile.

"Exactly. Your magic already knows how to protect you, you simply gave it the means it needed to do so properly. This in turn requires a lot less of your magic and Harry I'm sure you've realized you have a well of magic that most wizards can't even fathom."

That is probably what it meant to be marked as Voldemort's equal. But was he equal as a child or now? Did that mean he had more magic than Voldemort now? "Does the amount of magic you have increase as you mature?"

"Not really, it's more like the realization of potential. Take a muscle for instance, if you exercise properly and give your body the proper nutrition, it will get stronger. Do none of those things, it remains stagnant. It the same with any gift you're given. Whether it's physical ability or intellect. Even magic. If you nurture it, it will grow strong. If not, it withers and becomes deficient."

"So what does this mean for my magic, I mean, I saw the way it reacted to that incendio spell Leo cast at me. I've been feeling it for a while now, like the wind is just there whispering but I can't make out the words."

"In opening yourself to the old ways, you've opened yourself to a path of magic that most witches and wizards never have the opportunity to explore. And that's elemental magic."

"The elements. Fire, water, earth and air? We perform spells using those all of the time."

"Yes, but I mean you now have the ability to resonate with the element that has chosen you."

"So I can't just learn fire spells and cast them."

"Of course you can, but it would never be the same as the element that is best suited for your magic. If your element is air, as I suspect from Leo's description of your display earlier, then you would never wield fire properly. You could never bring forth a fire salamander if you don't resonate with that element."

"What in Merlin's name is a fire salamander?" He choked off a disbelieving burst of laughter.

"A fire spirit, the embodiment of the element of fire." She shook her head in frustration, "I'm skipping ahead through years of knowledge and training and I know I'm confusing you Harry. Yet I see you and when I learn you're following the old ways and there is such potential in you, I can't help but want to push you along the path quickly but I can't."

"So how should I begin?"

"You've already taken the most important step. You've allowed magic to mean more to you than mere spells and potions. Magic is a keystone in your life. I can give you tools but it's your path Harry. Now you'll just have to take this journey on your own and discover where it leads you."


	19. Chapter 19

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

**A/N: For those who have waited patiently for Harry and Blaise, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Thanks again for reading and reviewing. **

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

The nerves that plagued him most of the evening weren't relenting. If anything, as the clock inched closer to eleven, his stomach seemed to clench tighter in anticipation. Harry told himself it was normal. Most people were naturally anxious when they were contemplating starting a new relationship. It didn't matter his new relationship was with a Slytherin. Or a male. Both of which was sure to earn him arguments with his friends and most likely a front page article in the Daily Prophet, as if there weren't more important things going on than the status of his sexuality. Which was still up for consideration, Harry mused.

He glanced once more at his reflection in the mirror, nodding in approval. He would have to leave the dorm early if he didn't want to draw unwanted attention to his departure. There would be questions. From well meaning queries concerning his safety to teasing laughter pondering what bird he was entertaining. Wouldn't it be a surprise for his roommates to learn it was a bloke he was so jittery about meeting.

"You look very nice this evening, Master Harry."

Hobbes was a boon and if Harry could be grateful for nothing else the little elf had done, he would always appreciate the command Hobbes had taken of his wardrobe. After a furious fitting, the old second hand things from Dudley were retired in a blaze of glory and good riddance he couldn't help but sneer. Now his armoire was filled with his own clothes, from elegant dress robes and suits to casual shirts and trousers that he wouldn't be ashamed to wear. The little guy had great taste.

It had taken away one worry for the night as it was easy to select a tailored white shirt with French cuffs to wear over a pair of navy flat front, skinny fit trousers and a tasteful pair of dragon hide boots. Ruby cufflinks winked at his wrists along with the heirloom mythril watch he found in the Potter storage box. There were two others as well, one for more formal occasions and a casual one with a dark brown dragon hide ban. Now he didn't have to wear the broken one he had salvaged from amongst Dudley's cast-offs.

The new haircut Whimsy gave him was given a quick trim and he didn't even mind the aftershave Hobbes insisted he wear that had hints of citrus and sandalwood.

"Thank you Hobbes. And I know I said this already but thank you again, you know, for getting the new clothes."

"Master Harry is a Lord. He should not have been forced to wear rags." Hobbes always looked so insulted on his behalf when he recalled the old clothes. "Is there anything else I can get you this evening?"

Blaise sent him a note with a school owl requesting that Harry allow him to handle the arrangements for their first engagement. All he needed to do was show up at the Room of Requirement at eleven instead of twelve. It certainly took a lot of pressure off, as he really didn't have the slightest idea of what to do on a date. The only one he had ever been on was the disastrous one with Cho and it didn't bear thinking on.

"I'm good, Hobbes, but thanks."

"Then I shall prepare your things for tomorrow."

Though he didn't have classes, he still wanted to get up for his morning run and then do some reading in his family Grimoire. Colfax would floo in at eleven to begin their lessons in running the Potter estate and he had training with Leo at three, so his day would still be pretty busy.

"Harry where are you headed off to this late?"

Luck wasn't on his side, as the common room while not full still contained the very people he had been trying to avoid on his way out. "I have some things to take care of 'Mione."

"Its past curfew," she reminded him with more than a hint of disapproval in her voice.

He knew exactly what time it was, that's why he had his invisibility cloak tucked in his pocket. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her just that but decided to avoid the argument. He had been sneaking around Hogwarts for years now, she should know better than to think him unprepared.

"I'll be fine."

"You're dressed up again. What's the deal this time?" Ron asked. Their relationship was still awkward and tense at times but Ron was trying at least. The sad part, Harry realized, was just how hard Ron had to try. Had his friend really become so accustomed to the snide comments and innuendo? If someone had suggested to him even fourth year that he and Ron wouldn't always be the best of friends he probably would have hexed them.

"Maybe he has a date," Seamus suggested earning a laugh from Dean who he was beating at a game of chess if the board was any indication. Neville was absent, probably with Luna, while Hermione stared at him with inquisitiveness, Ron with suspicion and a dark anger from Ginny that he didn't even want to contemplate.

"Can I talk to you for a second Harry?" Hermione was already freeing herself from the arm Ron had wrapped around her shoulder so she could stand.

"Sure," he shrugged allowing her to pull him to the side, away from the lighthearted teasing of Seamus and Dean so they could speak in private.

"Was Seamus right? Do you have a date?"

He really couldn't tell anything from her tone but she kept throwing cautious glances over his shoulder which told him something was on her mind. "Why?" His tongue was heavy with sarcasm, "Would it be so horrible if I did?"

"Of course not, it's just that you never said a word to us about liking a girl, not after what happened with Cho last year. And I was curious that's all."

Perhaps he should try laying the foundation now. Sooner or later his friends would discover he was involved with Blaise, at least if he hinted at it now, they wouldn't be taken completely by surprise. "Yes, I'm meeting someone tonight but I'm not ready to name names yet."

"But Harry," she pleaded but he had to interrupt her.

"I know you mean well, 'Mione, but I'm not ready to tell you more than that. I'd appreciate it if you kept even that to yourself. I really don't need the gossip and I don't want word getting back to Voldemort that Harry Potter is dating."

"I do understand that Harry," she relented just a little, "But you know we'd never tell anyone."

"Not even Ron?"

"Of course not, he's your best friend."

"My best friend who is having a difficult time handling the way I've changed this year. You know Ron can speak without thinking sometimes. I won't put anyone in danger because Ron's angry with me and blurts something out at an inopportune moment."

"Ron would never do anything to hurt you Harry, you have to know that."

"Not on purpose, at least," Harry clarified because Ron had been hurting him a lot this year, though Hermione might not be aware of it all.

"I don't like keeping secrets from Ron. He's my boyfriend Harry."

"And I'm your best friend. I think I'm allowed some privacy. If you find you need to tell Ron everything we speak of, then perhaps you shouldn't ask me so many questions."

Harry felt bad for the hurt there in her eyes but he pushed on needing to make himself clear. "My private life has nothing to do with the War or Voldemort. I'll tell Ron when I'm ready for him to know."

"What about Ginny," she whispered cautiously, glancing over to the others again.

"What about her?" He was still angry with the youngest Weasley about her attitude toward him lately.

"Surely you realize she likes you Harry. It's the reason why she broke up with Dean."

"That had nothing to do with me." At her shocked expression, he couldn't help but release a heavy sigh. "I've never in all the years I've known her, given Ginny a reason to believe I returned her feelings. I barely know her, Hermione, other than being Ron's little sister and a Weasley. Why should I feel bad about not liking her?"

"It's like you said, you barely know Ginny. Why can't you give her chance? Get to know her, and perhaps you will like her."

With the way Ginny was acting like her mother? Harry barely resisted a grimace of distaste. He couldn't imagine being nagged to death by his girlfriend. Ron might get off on that but he definitely had no 'mummy issues' he needed to resolve.

"I'm already seeing someone." He didn't know how many different ways he would have to say this but he had a feeling an argument with a certain Weasley was in the making if she didn't back off.

"It can't have been for long, else you would have told us by now right? What's the harm in giving Ginny a chance?"

Seeing as for the past month Ron and Hermione could barely see past each others' face might have been the reason they didn't know he was dating. Yes, he had just acknowledged his attraction for the Slytherin but they wouldn't have known if he had been dating Blaise from the moment school began. That's how oblivious the two had been.

Her pleading expression made him feel bad but probably not for the reason she would have liked. "What is this about really? You know I'm not attracted to Ginny and yet here you are pushing for us to start dating. Would you like to tell me what is really going on?"

At least she was honest enough to feel guilty, given the blush spreading across her face, as she smiled sadly. "We're just growing apart Harry. I thought maybe if you and Ginny started dating each other," she finished with a hesitant lift of a shoulder.

"That things could go back to the way they were," he finished for her. Understanding made him feel sad; he thought he was the only one who noticed how different things were between them this year. "They can't," he said as kindly as he could. "I love you 'Mione and you'll always be my best friend but things have changed. I changed. No one could experience the things I have and remain the same. And I'm not exactly upset about those changes anymore."

"But what about you and Ron? The two of you barely speak. You're never around anymore. I just don't want to lose you that's all."

"And you won't but pushing me at Ginny of all people isn't going to fix things between me and Ron. I'm not blind, I know she wants something more than friendship for us but it would be cruel to lead her on especially when I like someone else."

She tilted her head in a nod, swallowing with a pensive expression on her face. "Maybe we can spend the day together tomorrow like we used to."

Hating to disappoint her, he nodded his agreement and was rewarded with a smile. "I need to wake up early tomorrow for my run but we can have breakfast together. I have a meeting with Colfax, my steward, tomorrow and then I have training with Leo."

"Can we come to watch? I know we can't train with you but we can watch. Maybe Ron and I can restart the DA even if you don't have the time."

"I guess," he hesitated, "My training isn't like the DA, Hermione. It's a lot more rigorous."

But all she heard was he had said yes. "We wont' get in the way, Harry. Maybe it will give us some ideas."

"Ideas." Right. Maybe this could be a good thing. If they saw how hard he was working may be they would stop questioning him about his morning runs and how much effort he was putting into his studies this year. He glanced down at his watch, eyes widening briefly. "I need to go; I'll see you in the morning then?"

"Right," she nodded quickly. "Be careful and have fun." She kissed his cheek and pushed him toward the door, happy now, probably feeling that things were on their way back to normal.

* * *

**FSFSFS**

* * *

Blaise leaned against the wall across from the Come and Go room and while he appeared patient, was in actuality anything but. Over the years he had desired many things and had no problem in doing whatever it took to gain them. Power. Knowledge. Nothing was unattainable if he worked hard enough. It was how he was raised; what he truly believed. Until he met Harry Potter.

Now the ideals that he put so much value in wouldn't be able to help him tonight. If he wanted Harry, he was going to have to open the part of himself that he had been taught to never reveal. His heart. He would have to make himself vulnerable; a state of being that was uncomfortable for him. Not even Daphne and Tracey had ever witnessed him that way. Yet, he knew that to have a relationship with Harry, there could be nothing less. They would have to be honest, to build trust. Each was the foundation of a real bond but practically anathema to a Slytherin. All of his well honed cunning and grand ambitions would not earn him a place in Harry's heart. Strangely enough, that's exactly what he wanted.

Nefertiti wound her way through his legs, impatient for her human to arrive, which brought a smirk of humor to his face. The moment his familiar heard he would be meeting Harry tonight, nothing he said or did could convince the feline to remain in the dorm. In the end she glared at him with those golden eyes and he knew she would be getting her way as always.

"He should be here soon," he murmured, careful of Professors making their rounds or Filch and his demon cat who loved to catch students out after hours.

When he sent the owl to Harry asking to allow him to handle their assignation tonight, he already had most of the evening planned. Given the things he learned about Harry, it was probably a good guess that he had never been outside of England before, other than to Hogwarts for school. Blaise had traveled all of his life both with his grandparents as well as with his mother. It was considered part of the education of an heir to an Ancient and Noble House.

If the War wasn't currently tearing its way through the Wizarding world, he would be making plans for the summer for his grand tour. A right of passage for an heir's Coming of Age. For years he had dreams of visiting the Far East with his friends but now it would have to wait. Perhaps one day when the Dark Lord was gone, he would be able to share that trip with Harry.

For tonight, he would give Harry a glimpse of one of his favorite places.

Nefertiti alerted him to an approaching presence and he slipped quietly into the shadows to wait and see who would turn the corner. After several moments, his familiar growled softly, already moving forward but no one was there.

"Blaise?"

All of his alerted senses told him there was someone standing in the hall just in front of him but his eyes couldn't make out the slightest touch of magic. There was no sign of disillusionment, nothing. Then the very air shimmered briefly and Harry's head appeared. "Blaise?" Harry glanced down in surprise and then began to laugh as Nefertiti made herself known.

"Well hello, your majesty." The smile he offered lit his face with affection that was not often found on the Gryffindor's face after recent events. It had been sorely missed. Nefertiti disappeared and rematerialized just as fast giving him a view of Harry's legs before both vanished again. "Yes, this lowly servant understands his place, your majesty."

Harry waved one arm back and one half of his body appeared as he lowered to the ground to lift Nefertiti into his arms.

"You'll spoil her," he finally spoke up, enjoying the look of shock on Harry's face. "I do believe I managed to surprise you and I'm not the one wearing an invisibility cloak."

"You were right in front of me and I didn't even see you there. How did you do that?"

"Practice," he drawled, inwardly laughing at the incredulous expression on Harry's face.

"Very funny. Do the two of you often work together? Your diversion and strike technique is unparalleled."

"Yes, we make a good team."

Harry's amusement gave way to consideration as his gaze slid quickly over the length of his body only to flare with approval. It proved the charcoal jumper and matching trousers were a good choice for the evening. Harry's stare roved over the breadth of his chest, across his shoulders and down the length of his arms, taking in the way the thin wool clung to every sinewy muscle.

"I would say you look beautiful tonight, if I didn't know you would take it the wrong way."

"Girls are beautiful," Harry insisted, frowning at the comparison.

There was nothing feminine about Harry's beauty and he had been taught to appreciate all kinds before he even knew he could be attracted to both sexes. The Gryffindor's face had lost most of its youth, grief and life carving the lines and angles of adulthood into an already handsome visage. The lower lip he was so fascinated with was flush and moist from being bitten, a telling gesture of nerves. It was too bad Harry didn't understand how much of a temptation the action proved to be.

The clean lines of the white shirt and dark trousers were a nice complement to a innately captivating presence. Harry was lithe, all sleek muscle with very little body fat. His body would never be bulky with muscle but his shoulders were just broad enough to accentuate a slim waist and powerful legs. Soon Harry would reach his zenith, mind, body and magic at its pinnacle and he couldn't wait to bear witness.

Blaise fought the urge to lick his lips at the image his mind had conjured.

"If you say so," he didn't bother to dispute the complaint. "Thank you for meeting me tonight and allowing me to make arrangements for our date."

"I was actually relieved. I," Harry paused, looking down at Nefertiti and focusing on the slow strokes of his hand moving across the feline's body. He drew in a deep breath, Gryffindor courage, and lifted his head. "I'm not really all that experienced at dating. Aside from last year with Cho, and that was pretty disastrous, there hasn't been anyone else. So I wouldn't know what to plan anyway."

"It isn't a sign of weakness to defer to someone more knowledgeable, Harry. A smart man knows when to yield to the more experienced." He stepped forward and grasped the handle of the door to the reality he had created and pulled it open. Harry glanced at him, lifting a brow, before stepping inside.

The look of wonder on Harry's face was everything he could have hoped for and more.

"And it gives me great pleasure to share Tuscany with you."

With all the countries he had visited and the sights he had seen over the years, Blaise chose the peaceful countryside of Tuscany for their first date for exactly those reasons. The bountiful vineyards spread as far as the eye could see, green and fragrant under the vivid indigo evening sky.

Harry turned in a circle, noting they were standing on a patio with marble flooring and sun bleached stone walls. Tall graceful peach trees and terra cotta vases filled with white gardenias, peach roses and gerbera daisies decorated the small courtyard. The sounds of water trickling from an ancient fountain were compliment by the calls of crickets and the melody of a violin playing something soft and romantic.

Floating lanterns and candles glowed over a circular intricate wrought iron table set for two and waiting for them.

"_This_ is beautiful," Harry's voice filled the quiet night air. He waved an arm out to the land, shaking his head in amazement. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"I'm glad you like it."

"The colors," Harry shook his head in disbelief, "Is it the magic or is it really so vibrant there."

"It's the country." Blaise placed a hand to the small of his back to escort him to the table. "I thought it was magic too when I first went there. Maybe it is, maybe the Divine blessed the very air to make it so beautiful."

"I'd like to go there someday." Harry smiled, as they both sat down. "To see it for myself."

"Perhaps we'll travel there together," he couldn't help but suggest. Judging from the intense pleasure Harry revealed it was a good idea.

"Maybe we will. I'm terribly impressed but I think you knew I would be."

"Hoped," he admitted, reaching for the bottle that knew would be perfectly chilled. "Wine?"

"I'm more used to butter beer," Harry told him but reached for the empty glass anyway for him to fill. "When in Tuscany."

"It's a Vermentino Bianco, great year. From my family's cellar. Aren't you going to ask where I got it from?"

"We may be Gryffindors, Blaise, but we've been sneaking in alcohol since fourth year. You do remember Fred and George, right?"

"I'm shocked, corrupted at such a young age."

"Not really, the sixth and seventh years never let anyone under the age of fifteen drink more than butter beer. The only reason I've had more is because of the celebrations with the quidditch team and never more than one glass of fire whisky before I was cut off."

"I'm still shocked and disillusioned but at least they were looking out for you." He carefully poured them both a glass before setting the bottle aside.

"Overprotective you mean," Harry snorted. Blaise watched him take a careful sip of the white wine, his stomach clenching at Harry's hum of approval. "You're right, this is good. I should probably start getting familiar with different wines seeing as I discovered I own a vineyard. So who taught you about wine?"

"My grandfather. He was very thorough in my education, as I'm the Zabini heir. I began with the traditional sniff, swish and spit, so that I could learn to identify all the layers of flavors in a good wine. I had my first real sip of wine at ten, I believe."

"My relatives liked to think they were sophisticated and well placed. When they would give parties, they would serve all types of wine. I could sometimes sneak a sip because I was in the kitchen cooking but they never had anything like this."

Blaise filed the bit of information Harry had just revealed away for later. "Hungry?"

"A little. I was a little too nervous to eat at dinner."

"Piffy," he snapped his fingers and the diminutive elf appeared in a loud pop. "You may begin serving, Piffy."

"'Course Master Blaise," she answer in a husky voice, filled with affection.

The small meal of fresh cacciucco, a zesty fish stew, was ladled over toasted Italian bread rubbed with garlic and herbs was well enjoyed as the two left their conversation to light matters that revealed more than either might have been aware. Harry had been familiar with the Italian dish, as he often cooked similar for his relatives but he never had the opportunity to taste it before. While Blaise was kinder to Piffy, a Zabini house elf, than Harry might have believed the Slytherin would be. All of these little snippets and details that neither had ever revealed to anyone else before drew them closer together.

Harry limited himself to only one and a half glasses of wine due to his personal experiences with his Uncle Vernon and alcohol, while Blaise indulged himself with a full second as he had been taught to respect the beverage from a young age and knew his limits. Both enjoyed the sweet peach cremolata served afterwards, and each could be found watching a mouth savor the cold creamy treat, a swipe of tongue licking the last taste off of a spoon.

Nefertiti stayed curled underneath the table, enjoying her own treat of cream, listening to her humans laugh and get to know each other.

After Piffy removed the remains of their meal, Harry happened to glance down at his watch, drawing a quick breath of shock. "It's almost two!" Harry had no idea time had passed so quickly as he had been thoroughly enjoying Blaise's company. "We should probably head back to our dorms. I know Hermione is probably waiting in the common room for me."

"Does she keep tabs on you like that all of the time?"

Given the vague hint of disapproval in Blaise's voice, it was obvious what he thought of his best friend's actions. "She just worries about me, that's all."

"By monitoring your comings and goings?"

He lifted a shoulder in response. "It doesn't bother me much. I know she only does it because she cares about me. To someone else, Hermione probably comes off as a little rude and slightly overbearing at times."

"Only slightly?" And that inspired a ripple of mirth in both of them.

"She's a good person. The best, really. So I can overlook her being bossy and she overlooks my broody moments."

"Did the two of you," Blaise stopped and shook his head, "Never mind."

But he knew what the Slytherin had wanted to ask. "She's like my sister. I've never thought of her that way. Not because she isn't pretty. For one, I knew that despite their fighting, she and Ron had a thing for each other."

His amusement slipped away a bit then as the reality of his life asserted it self. "Mostly, I didn't want dare risk losing one of the few people who cared about me, for me and not because I was the Boy-who-lived. There aren't that many people who like me because I'm Harry, not because I'm the supposed Chosen One, or James and Lily's son, or the youngest seeker in a century." He rolled his eyes at Blaise's smirk, "I see you get my point."

"I think I can state with utmost certainty, that my attraction for you has nothing to do with those things. I could tell you more but I wouldn't want to frighten you off."

He could feel the heat spread across his face at the mild teasing. "I'm a Gryffindor. It takes a lot more than words to scare me. We're the House of the brave remember."

The challenge was tossed down before Harry realized what his words could mean. "Really?" Was Blaise's low drawled response and he felt his heart give another one of those stuttering beats that he was quickly coming to associate with his reactions to the man in front of him.

Harry watched Blaise unfold his long powerful frame from his chair before holding a hand out, a mocha gaze daring him to accept. So of course he did. The contrasting textures of their hands sent a delicious heated shudder through his body. Blaise was confident, capable and that was compelling. He didn't have to worry about protecting Blaise for he knew instinctively this Slytherin was very able to defend himself.

The very thought brought on a freedom he had never known. Usually he was so worried about taking care of his friends and the people around him that it was liberating to know this man who appealed to him on so many different levels didn't need Harry to save him.

"Really," he reasserted, taking the initiative by slowly changing the grip he had on Blaise's hand, lacing their fingers together only to send a very sensual flutter of awareness through his body.

Blaise tugged gently on his arm, their bodies brushing together briefly and he had to bite his lip to stifle the soft gasp the touch inspired. "Foolish Gryffindor," Blaise murmured as he lowered his head against the side of his face. The same scent he remembered filled Harry's lungs, and he closed his eyes allowing it to envelop him and pull him into arousal.

This wasn't the soft curves of Cho, or Hermione's gripping hugs, no Blaise was all planes and angles. Muscle and power. Sweetly intoxicating. Dangerous. Warm lips trailed lightly along his jawline and Harry let his head fall forward to rest against the muscle between his neck and shoulder. The pounding of his heart only emphasized the way his body seemed to vibrate. He didn't know if this was desire or his magic but it felt so good he didn't give a damn either way.

"Blaise," he managed in a husky entreaty. He didn't know what he wanted, what would come next but he did want to feel more. The fingers threading through his hair, the light scrape of nail against his scalp, made him groan with pleasure.

"Harry," Blaise's warm breath on his ear made the blood pool heavy in his groin, the erection Harry hadn't known was coming pressing against the front of his pants. His heart was pounding out an erratic rhythm and each sensual movement of Blaise's touch was maddening.

He lifted his head, meeting Blaise's heated gaze and said, "Kiss me."

It was obviously what Blaise had been waiting for, if the lustful smile that curved his lips was any indication. Blaise studied his face for an extra beat, a mere instant before his mouth leaned in to claim his.

Soft. Harry's mouth was moist and warm and everything Blaise imagined it to be.

He would have liked to be gentle, to prove he could be. If he had just a touch more patience he would coax Harry's lips open with slow, shivery kisses. He should have nibbled lightly on that lower lip to inspire a soft gasp of pleasure. Each persuasive kiss would have fueled this simmering desire that made them hunger for each other. That made their magic sing.

The damned kiss burned.

Desperate, devouring, neither of them even tried to withstand it's command. When Harry's hands reached up to cup his face, he groaned, thrusting his tongue into the Gryffindor's mouth with an urgency that bordered on savage. Harry met the passionate demand, tongue curling around his, tantalizing and he knew they had stepped much too far over the line to ever go back to anything less than this desperate heat.

No one had ever tasted like Harry. No one made his heart hammer, his body ache. Not this way. Blaise pulled Harry's slim body roughly against him and eager arms slipped around his neck tugging in the need to draw their mouths closer, tighter. The kiss leapt and bound with reckless abandon until the air was filled with both of their moans of pleasure.

"Blaise."

Harry's groan after he tore his mouth away, made his body throb with greedy need but he caught himself. While he wouldn't mind pulling Harry to the ground and taking things further, his Gryffindor wasn't quite ready for their relationship to move that quickly despite how Harry's body was humming against his.

His mouth made a path along Harry's neck, inhaling the scent that was masculine and rich and all Harry. When Harry's head fell back, arching the sleek line of his neck in surrender, Blaise couldn't resist allowing his tongue to explore the skin bared for his touch. "We should stop now," he murmured, though his hands had yet to release Harry's hips and his body seemed determined to remain where it was.

"I guess so." Harry didn't sound any more willing to move than he did. "Dorms, right."

"Right," he agreed, unfortunately. When he lifted his head to gaze down into Harry's eyes, it was met with desire and emotion that brought on a wide pleased smile. "Next week?"

"Yes, please."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I'm sorry this is so late. It took a while to decide how this chapter needed to play out and I didn't come to a final decision until I sat down to type. Thank you all for the great reviews, when I started this story I was both excited and nervous but you all have made me feel very welcome to the HPfandom. **

**Here is my next chapter, I hope you enjoy it. There is more Harry/Blaise interaction as well.**

**Rated:M**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter Verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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Chapter Twenty

By the time he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry was actually looking forward to his friends joining him for his session with Leo later on that afternoon. During his run, he had given his talk with Hermione some thought and decided he would work harder to fix things between him and Ron. They were best friends, hell, Ron was his first friend. After everything the two had been through together, he wasn't going to lose that friendship, not if could help it.

So he had dressed with care that morning, a simple light blue shirt over a darker blue sweater vest and trousers. Nothing so intimidating as most of the clothing Hobbes had obtained for him but anyone who looked closely enough would recognize the expensive merino wool and tailoring for what they were. The outfit was designed with the dual purpose of quietly stating his position though still a student at Hogwarts and not offending his best friend.

While Harry didn't want to throw the wealth Ron envied in his face, neither would he try to hide. Part of growing up meant learning when to compromise Harry was quickly realizing, and if it would soothe Ron's ego so they could talk about their friendship, Harry didn't mind the concession.

"Morning Hermione, Ron," Harry greeted them with a genuine smile, as he sat down in his usual place at the Gryffindor table.

"Harry," Hermione's smile and voice was strained, causing him to wonder what the couple had been discussing before his arrival. "You're looking well this morning; I take it your evening went well last night. Especially since you hadn't made it back to the common room before I headed up for bed at three."

He heard the reprimand in her voice but chose not to comment on it, determined to keep the meal on a positive note. "Yes, my evening was fine."

The evening was perfect, were the words he should have said. It was fortunate that he was able to school his features to keep the smug delight off his face. Just the thought of Blaise was enough to make his stomach twist with excitement. He had shared one wet and awful kiss with Cho that had told him nothing about how wonderful the act could be. With a mere three kisses, Blaise had him craving more.

"What were you doing out so late?" Ron paused in the middle of a mouth full of toast. Then his eyes hardened in remembrance, "Seamus was just joking last night, right? You didn't have a date did you?"

Every once in a while, Ron would have moments of clarity that could surprise anyone who knew the redhead and how thick he could behave at times. Harry just wished he could have chosen another time to get a clue. Stalling, Harry centered himself, intoning the morning blessing before beginning to fill the plate before him with breakfast.

"You did, didn't you!" Ron's voice rose a lot louder than Harry liked, drawing unwanted attention, and Hermione's ire as she slapped his shoulder roughly.

"Ron! Do you have to yell?"

Harry glanced around, noting only the Gryffindors were paying attention to the commotion Ron was causing. "If I had a date," he paused, holding up a hand to forestall the loud words Ron looked ready to shout. "_If_, I had a date, do you really think the Great Hall at breakfast is the place where I would want to discuss it?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, I never should have brought it up," Hermione quickly apologized, slipping her arm through her boyfriends, probably hoping the distraction would keep him quiet.

"It's alright, and yes I came back a little after three." The memory of exactly what he had been doing brought a small grin to his face. After a long, intense good night kiss from Blaise, Harry had made his way back up to Gryffindor dorms avoiding notice. Fortune had indeed smiled on him because he definitely hadn't been very aware of his surroundings. He was already counting the days until their next date and hoping he could find an opportunity to sneak in some time with the Slytherin alone before then.

"So what are you two getting up to this afternoon? I know 'Mione said that she wanted to come to my session with Leo later this afternoon, but you have a few hours on your own before then."

"What? You mean your training class?" Ron glanced first at him then his girlfriend and to Harry it looked as if this information was new to him.

"You didn't ask him?" Harry looked at the guilty face of his best friend and saw that she hadn't told Ron about her idea.

At least she felt bad for letting him put his foot in it. This just wasn't like her. If Hermione wanted to do something, she never had a hard time saying so. "I just thought, maybe, you could help me convince him."

Now he had to beg Ron to spend time with him? "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"You want to actually spend the day in class?" Ron groaned in disgust, showing just how much he approved of Hermione's plans. Exactly what Harry had been trying to avoid. He knew that if he offered the suggestion Ron would refuse simply to be stubborn. "This is the first Saturday where I've managed to finish all my assignments and you want me to voluntarily spend my free hours in a classroom."

"I just thought maybe we could support Harry, and even learn a few things ourselves if we went with him today," Hermione pointed out, though Harry knew those weren't her sole intentions of getting them together. She was trying her best to heal the rift between them but it seemed like Ron wasn't even concerned about their friendship.

"If he wants to train all the time, I'm not going to stop him but come on Hermione, I wanted to do some flying this afternoon."

"And you still can," she interrupted but he went on.

"Then I thought maybe the two of us could do something, alone, you know." Ron shrugged, looking around and studiously avoiding Harry's eye.

Harry hadn't been his best friend for the last five years without learning a few of the redhead's tells.

It was obvious that Ron was lying. Sure he may have actually intended to do some flying but spending time alone, planned time, wasn't something Ron would ever think of on his own. After the past few weeks watching the couple's interactions, Harry knew Ron tossed out the 'time alone' phrase whenever he was trying to get out of doing something he didn't want to be bothered with, like homework or his prefect duties. Harry never thought he would see the day when he became someone to be avoided.

"But, I was hoping we would get some pointers," Hermione continued on but Harry could tell her heart was no longer in it. "Maybe restart the DA in October, especially with V-Voldemort increasing his attacks."

"I don't know if I'll have time for it, not with Quidditch season starting soon."

Another sore point with Ron, Harry thought as he set his fork down, his meal suddenly unappetizing. Katie had been made captain of the Gryffindor team, which Ron complained about for longer than anyone had a right to. Harry had been happy because Katie deserved the honor, though she had joking complained about not having time due to her NEWTS schedule.

When Professor McGonagall had made the announcement last Thursday evening, she also brought the news that Umbridge had managed to thoroughly curse his Firebolt and when she and Professor Flitwick had tried to remove them, it had unfortunately stripped the magic from the broom rendering it useless. Now the beloved gift from his godfather was nothing more than a household cleaning device.

So losing Quidditch hadn't hurt as much as being grounded until he was able to purchase another broom. He suggested replacing the entire teams' brooms when he went to purchase one for himself, especially since his father had invested in the Nimbus Company. Everyone knew the school brooms were horrible and it would be a good endowment for the team he loved. That really hadn't gone over well with Ron who just shouted about how he was letting down the team and trying to make up for it by buying their forgiveness for costing them the Cup.

Rather than argue or point out how insulting Ron's remarks were to the remaining members of the team, Harry merely turned the offer to Professor McGonagall who had been happy to accept the donation.

"But Ron, just the other day you were saying how it would be a good idea. Especially with the war and now you're changing your mind for Quidditch? You played last year and it didn't interfere with the DA, so why is it a problem now?"

"It just is, that's all." Ron met his gaze for a few seconds, before returning to his meal, but not before Harry had seen the real answer in his eyes. This had nothing to do with quidditch or even the DA. This was about the problems between them and Ron being spiteful.

"Don't worry about it 'Mione," Harry interjected into the brewing argument. This time when Ron looked at him, Harry didn't bother hiding his disgust. The last thing he wanted was to force Hermione to choose between the two of them. It wasn't fair and Ron knew it but was going to force the issue anyway. Probably just to prove that Hermione would choose her _boy_friend and not her _best_ friend.

"You can come another time, since Ron made plans for the two of you today."

"But Harry, what about our plans?"

"I don't mind, really," he lied and Hermione's frown told him she wasn't convinced. "Alright, I mind. I guess I got my hopes up, is all. You were the one who thought of us hanging out together today and now Ron says he wants to be alone with you. It's like the beginning of the year again where you two are together and I'm being ignored. I had hoped just this once you might have chosen to spend some time with me as well."

"Just this once? What are you talking about!" Ron argued. "She always chooses you first and now finally, she picked me over you and you can't stand it! She's my girlfriend and you can't stand the fact that her life doesn't revolve around you now."

"I never said that!"

"Of course not. You wouldn't want to be called jealous like the rest of us now would you? If I'm jealous, it's always get over it Ron. When you're the one who can't stand not being the center of attention, its poor ickle Harry. No one understands me, you're ignoring me."

"Do you honestly think I believe that?"

"I don't know," Ron said the words tentatively, as if testing the idea, "I just know I'm tired of being the bad guy here because your feelings are hurt."

Harry drew in a breath, looking from Ron's tight expression to the plea in Hermione's eyes, not knowing what he should say to those hurtful words. Was he being unreasonable? "Fine," he finally managed, "I'm very sorry you feel that way Ron. I'm not jealous of the time you and Hermione spend together. I was very happy for the two of you when I discovered you were finally a couple. But if you believe she always puts me first, I believe that is a discussion you need to have with your girlfriend, not me."

As his meal was completely unappetizing now and unlikely to be finished, he removed the napkin from his lap and placed it into the plate so that he could stand. "I have some things I need to take care of," he told them, giving a quick incline of his head. "If you'll excuse me."

* * *

FSFSFS

* * *

"What was that about?" Daphne murmured over the rim of her cup of tea, as they all surreptitiously watched Harry leave the Great Hall amidst the silence and stares of his fellow Gryffindors.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't good," Tracey answered. "From everything I've observed of the Golden Trio, things are not well in the land of lions this year."

"It started with Granger's Coming of Age party that wasn't. It really hurt Harry that they were so against it, especially after all the work he put into it." Blaise explained, refusing to allow his gaze to linger on the door where Harry had departed. He wanted nothing more than to go after Harry and make sure he was okay. "The friendship has strained considerably since Harry discovered his heritage."

"I still say someone should be held accountable for keeping him ignorant. This only lends credence to those who would claim that the traditions of the Wizarding world are being usurped by muggle-born ideals." Daphne's tone had become chilly, proving she was deeply offended. Most members of the Ancient and Noble Houses would be demanding to know who was responsible for interfering in matters not of their concern.

They all knew the most likely suspect was Dumbledore and with things getting worse with the Dark Lord, no one was going to push to prosecute one of the most powerful light wizards who probably was all that stood against the Wizarding world falling into a monster's hands. Newspapers might like to print stories about Harry, but the Dark Lord had years of experience on the proclaimed Chosen One. No matter Dumbledore's faults, Harry needed the wizard.

Blaise was more concerned about the pain in Harry's eyes as he left the Great Hall. He just didn't understand why Ron Weasley was given so many opportunities for forgiveness when he didn't deserve them. It was clear the fool didn't appreciate the fact that he was given those chances because he kept throwing them back in Harry's face.

"And what has you looking ready to hex someone?"

Tracey had a soft smile on her face that told him she had a pretty good idea what had angered him. He took a glance over at Daphne and saw she was giving him the same look that dared him to pretend he wasn't thinking about Harry.

"I think I spend too much time with the two of you." It made him feel no better when their tinkling laughter rang out proving he was correct.

"Don't worry, Blaise. Harry won't be able to hold onto that famous Potter temper much longer." Daphne explained. "Everything happens for a reason. Weasley will dig his own hole, perhaps deep enough there won't be a final chance for forgiveness. Who knows?"

"Harry must believe he has some redeeming qualities if he's stuck by him this long." Tracey shrugged as she finished her cup of tea and set the cup aside. "But Daphne is right, one day Weasley will do something Harry won't excuse and he'll realize just what he tossed aside so carelessly."

* * *

FSFSFS

* * *

"_Expulso!"_

The power of the magic that poured into the curse immediately blasted through the thick stone barrier Harry had transfigured as a shield to give him a chance to catch his breath. Upon shattering, the residue magic slammed into his shoulder sending him flying through the air, only to hit to the floor and slide several feet before he crashed into a chair that had somehow escaped their battle.

Leo was already on the move, he lifted one of the remaining fragments of rock quickly changing it into a barrier of his own and ducked behind it before Harry was able to roll to his feet.

Hermione didn't know what she expected when she decided to go to Harry's training class without Ron. As she watched her best friend of six years cast spells and fight with Leo Shacklebolt, she realized that with all of her knowledge and all of her books, she would never reach the level of Harry's skill no matter how hard she tried.

'The strange thing is,' she thought as she observed Harry cast a chain of spells that started with an _impedimenta_ and ended with a _confringo_ more powerful than anything she had ever attempted, 'This is the way it was supposed to be.'

Harry wasn't on par with Professor Shacklebolt but only because the wizard had years of experience. Hermione knew it was merely a matter of time before those brilliant moments whenever Harry faced Voldemort and won against all odds would become standard. And it was all starting here.

How did she miss all of this?

Harry was thrown back again, this time by a disarming curse, his wand flying out of his grasp. Surely this would be the end of the almost brutal dueling session. Instead Hermione looked on in amazement as Harry held out a hand and grunted in a low but determined 'accio my wand' before he hit the floor succeeding in halting the wand's flight to the Professor's hand. Faster than she thought him capable, he rolled backwards, came to his knees and the wand slapped into his waiting hand.

"That's wandless magic," she whispered. And it was supposed to be impossible. Yet Harry performed it with an ease that told her the movement had been practiced many times before until it was perfectly choreographed.

"Yes, Harry was quite surprised when he managed it for the first time. It isn't impossible for a wizard to harness their magic and perform occasional wandless magic. It merely takes a very powerful wizard to do so. Harry as we both know, is a very powerful wizard."

"Professor Vector?"

Hermione sat up a little straighter at the sight of her favorite instructor who had joined her in watching the duel. She would never tell Ron or Harry but she admired the witch immensely. Not just because she was beautiful and carried herself with poise but next to Professor McGonagall she was one of the most intelligent witches she had ever met. She hoped to one day reach that level of self-confidence.

"Good Afternoon, ma'am."

"Hello Ms. Granger, I see you decided to join Harry today."

"Yes, I was curious as to why he was so busy this year and now I guess I can see why."

"Harry has made a lot of progress in a very short amount of time, not just in his dueling skills but in his comprehension of magic. I can't imagine what he would be capable of if he had been offered the same opportunities for all his years here at Hogwarts."

It was no secret that the DADA Professors were laughable at least and deadly at worst. "I'm glad he's taking a more active role in learning."

"But then, from the very start of this year, Harry has had a resolve and focus that I rarely see in students." A look of tired sadness passed over the Professors features before moving back to her usual serene smile.

"I'm sure it's a combination of things, but mostly I believe Harry has had those final remnants of childhood innocence torn away. He's an adult now, regardless of what our laws claim or those who would prefer to keep him in the role of a simple teenager for a while longer. More importantly, and this I believe speaks to the strength of his character, he's accepted those responsibilities and acknowledges the assistance he knows he needs."

"Not everyone is prepared for that at sixteen. It isn't fair to put those burdens on Harry's shoulders," Hermione said, silently comparing her boyfriend to her best friend and not liking the result.

This was the issue she believed was the major cause of Ron and Harry's problems. Harry had been forced to grow up, while Ron was still safe in the awkward final stages of youth. As the sixth son in a large family, Ron had time and support before he would need to make the same transitions that Harry had made with Sirius gone. She knew his godfather's death was devastating for Harry and with the War and Voldemort facing him, he would never accept another parental figure in his life. And given Harry's recognition of his Lord status, Ron's best friend must seem chasms away and barely recognizable.

When she told Ron she was coming to Harry's training with or without him, she had expected an argument and Ron had not disappointed. The jealousy and anger seemed so immature when she thought back on Ron's words. Harry hadn't done a thing to inspire that behavior and instead of belittling him, Ron should be supporting the best friend who would do the same for him if the situations were reversed. Her words had only served to enrage Ron even more.

He kept yelling about how Harry thought he was better than everyone now. Lord of an Ancient and Noble House with money and clothes and house elves serving him. Then he started in on the special classes that weren't offered to other students. He had demanded to know why they weren't given the same opportunity. Hadn't they been at Harry's side through everything? The war affected them all, not just Harry Potter.

What made her uncomfortable was the thought that Ron would be the one behaving like a self-important arse if the circumstances had truly been reversed. Whenever something good happened to Ron he tended to brag until everyone was sick of hearing about it. And though she loved Ron, she wasn't blind to his faults. He was loyal to a fault but sometimes his pride and poor self-esteem issues could make him do and say hurtful things without thinking of the consequences.

If he spewed the same rubbish at Harry that he had to her this afternoon, it was a wonder they had any friendship left. She didn't know how she would help heal the rift between the two and worse, she didn't know if it was even her place to interfere but the one thing she had made clear to Ron this afternoon was the fact that she wouldn't allow him to place her in the middle. Yes, she was his girlfriend and she loved him but she loved Harry too and had stood by his side for six years and would for a hundred more if given the chance.

"All right, Leo let's take a break."

Professor Vector's voice broke into her inner musings and Hermione looked up in dismay only to realize she had missed most of the remaining duel worrying about Ron. The room was absolute chaos as Harry and Professor Shacklebolt had taken advantage of every object at their disposal during their fight. Harry was bent over with his hands braced on his knees panting harshly but what she noticed most of all was the visual evidence of his magic swirling around him in the form of a violent wind.

"I was fine until I dodged that last stunner, it nipped me on the shoulder a bit and everything went wonky again," Harry explained in a frustrated voice. "If I don't get a handle on this, I'm going to be next to useless in a fight with Death Eaters."

"I know you hate discussing your lessons with Professor Snape, but did you learn anything about Occlumency from him?"

"The only thing I learned from Snape is how much of an arse he was truly capable of being, Septima. He just kept screaming clear your mind before attacking me. He's a lousy instructor and that includes potions as well."

Hermione was just about to reprimand Harry for not only speaking so disrespectfully about another Professor but addressing one with such casual familiarity when she saw Professor Vector thread her fingers through his damp hair. Harry didn't even react when usually if anyone tried to touch him like that, he would have flinched away.

"Snape's a well acknowledged potion master, no mistake there," Leo said as he cross the room to them, "But I think it's safe to say he's a shitty teacher."

The three enjoyed a laugh together and this camaraderie proved more than anything that her scolding would have been unnecessary and inappropriate. The Professors may be teaching Harry but the three were friends. It was difficult to see, as her relationship with Harry was on such shaky ground.

"As you have just begun practicing the old ways, it is essential to start incorporating more meditative exercises into your daily routine. There is only so much help I can give you because this is such an internal and personal process. Traditionally, someone from your family would instruct you, allowing you to read the techniques used over generations from the family Grimoire where you would be able to discover what best suits you."

"Family Grimoire?" And though Harry asked for clarification, she knew that look on his face quite well. He knew exactly what the Professor meant.

"Yes, most of the older pureblood families have one, especially those who still follow the old ways. You should speak with your uncle or someone at Gringotts to see if there is one in your family vault. I'm certain as an Ancient and Noble House, the Potter family had one."

Hermione remembered vividly the harsh way Harry had reacted to the book Ginny had wanted to see. If she hadn't interfered, Hermione was sure Harry would have hexed Ginny to keep her away from it. It was probably the exact book the Professor was speaking of. Given what she read about family Grimoires, Hermione wasn't surprised now at his behavior. They were supposed to be very personal and meant for members of the family only or those chosen to share the knowledge contained with its pages.

"In the meantime, why don't you get into the stance I showed you and work on centering yourself and your magic. Take as long as you need, because I don't want you casting again until you're not followed by your own personal tornado."

Harry sat down on the floor, crossing his legs in a classic lotus position before giving the Professor a grimace. "It would help if I didn't have to bend into a pretzel," the pleading in his voice unmistakable.

"Fine, you're allowed to kneel but really work on those flexibility exercises I gave you with the same vigor you give running and those sit-ups Leo prescribed."

"I see the results from that," Harry teased and lifted the bottom of his shirt showing off a well formed abdomen. Hermione never would have expected that behavior from the boy who hated to be the object of attention.

"Well, when you find the right person, they will be very appreciative of your ability to, and what was it you said, bend into a pretzel." The suggestive remark made Harry flush a bright red and had both Professors bursting into laughter.

"You're mean Septima," Leo grinned, as he walked over to the only chair that had survived the battle because a leather jacket sat on the back of it. "Harry's still innocent and you're not supposed to be corrupting him."

"Sure you two, gang up on me. That's really fair." Harry complained from his kneeling position without opening his eyes.

"You started it," Leo pointed out.

"And I finished it with style," Septima finished with a flourish of her hand, making the two men chuckle.

"I need to get back, Kingsley wants me with him tonight when he goes out and I need to eat first. Harry, I picked up those jeans you asked for and I got you a little something else that you admired while I was there."

One eye flashed open, "Like yours?" And Hermione could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, like mine. Two pair actually, in brown and black. No man should ever be without a good pair of shitkickers as one of my American compatriots likes to say."

"Brilliant!"

"Focus!" Septima nudged him in the shoulder which had Harry grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry. Thanks Leo, really, I can't say it enough. Hobbes picked out a great wardrobe for me but I was missing a good pair of denims and now I'll have some that fit."

"Eight pair actually and I also grabbed you a leather jacket. You'll have to cast the protective spells on it yourself but I'm sure you're more than capable. It will be a good exercise for you. I'll check your work on Monday."

"Be safe, Leo." Septima waved in farewell.

In the moments of silence that followed, Hermione had a lot to think on. After facing Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries, she had been sure that with a little more training and spells that she could face them again in a duel with confidence in her abilities. Now after observing Harry she wasn't so sure. Yes, Harry was probably training to face Voldemort but the dark wizard wouldn't surround himself with inferior wizards so they would be deadly to battle as well.

How on earth had she been so foolishly complacent? Now more than ever they needed to revive the DA if only to give everyone a chance at survival. Their DADA Professor was competent but wasn't teaching them how to fight in a War. She had to convince Harry to at give them some help, even if it was only ideas, considering how busy he had to be.

What she really wanted to start working on was basic healing and she regretted not taking the class offered by Madam Pomfrey seriously as Harry had. She had been so focused on NEWTS. Too focused.

So while Harry meditated, she would start outlining plans for the first DA meeting. Ron might not want anything to do with the DA but she was sure the other members would want continue and hopefully she could just get Harry to attend and see they needed him if she took on most of the responsibilities.

FSFSFS

"I'm glad you came."

When he looked up to see Hermione standing just outside the Gryffindor dorm waiting for him, Harry had been surprised to see her. Even more so to hear her say she would be joining him for his session with Leo. He would be lying if he didn't admit he was disappointed Ron wasn't with her but he wasn't going to take on Ron's problems as he had plenty of his own. Ron would have to figure out for himself if their friendship was worth salvaging.

"So am I," Hermione told him, "And I'm sorry if I've been neglecting our friendship lately because I've been spending so much time with Ron."

"I understood," Harry shrugged, being honest. Now that he liked Blaise, being with the Slytherin was always on his mind. If he could set everything else aside and be with Blaise, he would happily do it, so he couldn't blame Hermione for wanting private time with Ron.

"Ron is being impossible and I don't what to say to him to show how much of a prat he's acting."

"It isn't your responsibility to control Ron. This has been a problem since fourth year, Hermione, only now I'm not brushing it aside as typical Ron behavior and that's why we're fighting."

He really didn't want to talk about Ron anymore. After two hours of first dueling with Leo and then meditating so that he could stop his magic from going wonky every time he strained himself, all he wanted was a shower and food so that he could bury himself in the Potter Grimoire and find some kind of solution.

"Harry?"

And just like that, all the fatigue he had been feeling disappeared as he was jolted with awareness. Hermione stiffened next to him as they both turned to see who had called him but Harry already knew who he would see. He would recognize the way Blaise drawled his name in a dark crowded room.

"Blaise," he acknowledged with a slight incline of his head. They had yet to decide when their relationship would be made public but he wouldn't be rude to the Slytherin just because Hermione was standing with him.

"Granger," his boyfriend greeted with cool politeness expected of a Slytherin.

Hermione offered a, "Zabini," in return, even as she was eyeing him with a calculating expression.

"I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time," Blaise asked, his countenance immobile, except for the slight twitch of amusement at his mouth that no one would see unless they were staring like Harry just happened to be.

"Why would you need to speak to Harry?" She was already taking a step forward in his defense but Harry stopped her with a hand to her arm.

"Its fine, 'Mione. You head up to the common room and I'll see you in the Great Hall."

"But," she looked at them both, then sighed in resignation. "Fine, but if you're not in the Great Hall by the start of the meal, I'm coming to look for you."

When they were finally alone, Harry gestured to a darkened classroom and Blaise led the way, casting a dim light spell so they remained in shadows. Harry locked the door, casting a privacy spell and turned to better inspect Blaise having missed the chance all day. Evidently the Slytherin had dressed for dinner, though casual in the simple dark blue sweater and trousers, he was no less attractive.

Only now that they were alone, and Blaise was looking at him this way, Harry thought maybe this wasn't one of his brightest ideas. Blaise closed the distance between them slowly, like a predator stalking prey. Harry felt his heart slam once against his ribs and then began a wild pace so loud he was certain Blaise could hear it.

He didn't know if he would ever get used to this passion between them. The thoroughly male scent that made his throat dry. The knot of anticipation that curled in his stomach at the very idea of those hands on his body.

And if Blaise didn't stop looking at him that way, Harry sure as hell wasn't going to be held responsible when he jerked the man into his arms and crushed their mouths together to give Blaise exactly what his eyes were imploring him for.

They should be taking their time, getting to know each other.

So satiating this need that had a grip on his good sense and was refusing to let go, was probably a bad idea. His hand trailed up the length of Blaise's chest, clearly not listening to his head and neither were his feet because they moved until he was so close he could feel their thighs brush.

"I should head up to take a shower," he breathed heavily.

"I like you just the way you are right now." Blaise leaned forward to brush his mouth against the side of Harry's face in a gesture that was now familiar.

"You said you wanted to see me."

"I do. I saw you and Granger heading to that classroom earlier and waited until you came out."

"That was more than two hours ago." He met mocha eyes in surprise.

"Oh, I went back to the dorm for some light reading, so my time was well occupied. Besides, I needed to know if you were okay after the scene with Weasley at breakfast."

"I _really_ don't want to talk about Ron right now," Harry insisted. Not with the blood rushing in his head, lust filling his groin and very little time to taste Blaise to his gratification.

"Fine by me."

Feeling arms slip around his waist, strong hands slipped beneath his sweaty t-shirt to brush the small of his back. Their uneven breathing filled the silence. Blaise's hand pressed their bodies together, showing Harry how much he was affected, that Harry left him hard and wanting. Harry didn't move away like he should have. Instead he thrust forward rubbing the evidence of their arousal together and loud groans of pleasure echoed around the empty classroom.

"Blaise," he moaned and it just became too much so he gave in.

When their lips met and clung, he shattered. There was nothing else to it. The velvet warmth of Blaise's kiss, slow and drugging, set his body aflame. Where Harry thought Blaise would devour, it was deeper, more heart wrenching this time. It was like this was their first kiss. The first time their mouths ever met. The first time Harry felt the sweep of Blaise's tongue on his lower lip and he gave himself up to that intense hunger.

It was new and perfectly the same, which made his heart race.

Their mouths mated, bodies strained for the closeness, hands clenching at muscle and nothing else mattered. There was only this feeling, only this tantalizing fire and whirlwind that wanted sway.

Blaise sucked at his lower lip, nipping it lightly with his teeth, causing Harry to moan as pleasure leapt wildly through his blood. The duel of their tongues took the kiss past demanding and even as Blaise pushed him against the wall trapping him there, Harry had no desire to stop him.

"Harrigan," Blaise tore his mouth away to pant out, and then nuzzled the skin just behind Harry's ear, his trembling body struggling for control. "Merlin, what you do to me."

"Are we going to make this a habit," Harry asked, breathless and achy from their ministrations. "Dragging me away to molest me in darkened classrooms?"

Blaise reclaimed his mouth, this kiss surprisingly tender, and when he spoke their lips brushed together. "Every opportunity I get."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Here is my new chapter. I've been out of town unexpectedly, so I didn't have the opportunity to update sooner. Hope you like.**

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.**

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**Chapter Twenty-One**

Severus Snape was a man who lived his life carefully balanced on the edge of the sharpest of blades. Always circumspect. Always aware. He knew that with any wrong decision he could be rent in two, tortured and slain, and no one would speak up on his behalf. No one would mourn his passing.

Not any longer.

He played servant to a madman and a master of manipulation knowing both used him for whatever suited their purposes.

The dark mocked him cruelly, he was never truly trusted, but he held no affection for them either. They were the inner circle of a crazed wizard who kept faith with none bar his own, reveled in the cruelty of his punishments and gloried in the blood and death meted out to those considered inferior. This was the path he had chosen as a blind child. Seduced by the lure of power and respect that he received neither at home nor amongst his peers. A naïveté he would have derided in anyone else.

Only to betray those he called ally and run to the light, begging for forgiveness. And those blue eyes had granted absolution. At a price.

Now he bowed at the feet of the 'greater good' and silently accepted the distrust and suspicion of those he would fight alongside. For yes, he had been a Death Eater and it was only due to their leader that he wasn't locked away in Azkaban with the worst of his _old crowd_.

Each day was a testament of will, the threat of the blade pressed against his throat. It was his job. His place in the war. The only way he could bear to live with himself after all the unforgiveable things he had done. Yet twisted in his resolve were anger and hatred and bitterness. These emotions had imprinted themselves just as unmistakably as the black lank hair he inherited from an abusive alcoholic muggle father or long hooked nose that bastard Potter and his pet mongrel had broken more than once.

Sullen hostility was all he had left and he wielded them with the same efficiency and veracity he had once employed when casting a spell that would eviscerate a mudblood.

For he was a betrayer and nothing he ever did would ever erase the mistake he had made or bring back the life that was stolen because of him.

The cold in the air sent a shiver down his spine; instincts he relied upon warned him of the direction of his thoughts. A lapse he could not afford. This hidden fortress was the strong hold of the Dark Lord's forces and his inner thoughts while within this stone fortification were never his own. It was rare to be summoned during the day but Severus knew that if he had ignored the call, the consequences would be worse than any rumor spread about Hogwarts could ever be.

When he entered the small room, as usual he was disgusted. The Dark Lord had taken on too many of his familiar's characteristics, proven by the dank humidity in the air. Severus wondered if the Dark Lord had ever connected his reptilian need to be under a rock with his fortress. Even this room intended for meetings of the inner circle was now mere mockery as most of the wizards who held that vaulted position were currently residents of Azkaban after their failure in the Department of Mysteries.

Deep in the shadows of the chamber a stone throne sat between two columns that extended up to the ceiling. Both were carved with intricate snakelike designs in honor of the Dark Lord's Slytherin heritage. Green tapestries and rugs were illuminated by dim candle light. A wave of malice and hatred washed over him, reminding him of his place, immediately sending him to his knees to crawl the remainder of the distance across the room.

He wasn't alone, the only remaining inner circle member was already genuflecting before her Lord with near mindless babble in a voice that skipped manically from a sultry woman to a wild hysterical child. Both were indications of her insanity. It was a lunacy he wasn't sure she suffered from the start, from her years in Azkaban or if her mind had been broken over the years by the master she was so slavishly devoted to. Occasionally Bellatrix's frail form would tremor, proof she was already suffering the after effects of the torture curse.

"_Severus_," the dark hiss caused him to flinch before he rapidly strengthened his mental defenses, allowing this master to see only what he dared show.

"My Lord, I apologize for my tardiness, Dumbledore has made the protections of Hogwarts even more of a nuisance. I was forced to apparate from Hogsmeade."

Severus dared a glance at his master; tonight he wore a hooded cowl of the darkest of red, visible only when a fracture of light happened upon the material. The material moved fluidly like spilt blood in shadow. It was a comparison the Dark Lord would appreciate, if Severus dared risk speaking the words aloud. Cold serpentine features were concealed except for the burning crimson of the Dark Lord's eyes.

"_Your excuses are not my concern, Severus." _

Since the disaster in the Department of Mysteries, something had changed about the dark wizard. In the beginning, the Dark Lord was powerful, charismatic. He had the ability to draw people in, to listen and actually consider the things he believed. That power changed, became destructive as the wizard's sanity fractured more and more until he thought nothing of murdering a mere child who was the prophesized cause of his destruction.

Even at his resurrection, the wizard's focus remained on Potter. All of his plans designed to learn the remainder of a seer's prediction in fear of a child. Now it was as if something had filled in those cracks and smoothed the edges of the Dark Lord's mind. He was still powerful but now there was a malevolence there coupled with that insanity and Severus knew if this evil wasn't stopped it would be the end of not only the Wizarding world but for everyone and everything.

"Forgive me master," Severus begged, slipping into his role thoroughly. He grabbed the hem of the Dark Lord's robe, kissing it with passion before lowering his head to the feet before him. He wasn't surprised when one of those feet struck him viciously in the face as the signal for him to scramble back next to Bellatrix.

"_Forgive you?" _

Despite the angle, Severus could sense when the Dark Lord leaned forward to study him. His instincts were correct, the foreboding he had been experiencing from the moment he had been summoned was soon to reach fulfillment.

"_What word do you bring me tonight?"_

"My Lord, Dumbledore is still reeling from your slaughter of that village of mudbloods and blood traitors. They are scrambling for reasons but your brilliance is far beyond their comprehension my Lord. He sends his pet mongrel out to the dark creatures seeking alliances and he constantly tries to get that fool Minister to add more protections to Azkaban."

Severus knew that last had the dark wizard's attention. _"And has Fudge done so?"_

"No, my Lord," Severus sneered, his reaction quite real. How many times did the idiot have to be told Voldemort would come for his men before listening to reason? It was only a shame Fudge didn't guard the prison himself, so that men who could be of use in battle wouldn't be sacrificed due to a dim-witted Minister's pride. "Even with the Dementors gone, he refuses to take action to ward the prison further."

"_Good. It will be your responsibility to remove Dumbledore's focus from Azkaban. Though he is an old fool, Dumbledore is correct. I shall soon be reclaiming my followers. I believe they have been punished enough for their failure."_

At this Bellatrix looked up eagerly, practically foaming at the mouth and her long black hair a rat's nest around her face. She looked like a mad dog. "It's time, my Lord?"

"_Yes, Bella_," the voice still malicious but carried a trace of humor. _"Samhain will soon be upon us and I need the magic of my twelve most faithful. The first stage will soon be complete and by Yule nothing will be able to prevent me from ridding us of those filthy mudbloods and blood traitors."_

Bellatrix cackled happily, "Soon, soon, poor baby Potter will be crying over his disgusting friend's bodies. And the blood, we will dance in blood, my Lord, and their screams shall be our music," she moaned, breathless, almost sexual. Severus supposed it was. The witch had always enjoyed pain whether she was causing it, watching it or experiencing it.

"_There are several potions you will need to brew Severus before Samhain."_

"I will need a list," he began but was silenced by a wave of the Dark Lord's hand.

"_When it pleases me, Severus and not before."_

"Of course, my Lord, I would not presume." Severus bowed quickly, his mind already racing over the possibilities of the potions he would be commanded to brew and what could be done to subtly alter them so they failed.

"_The attack on Hogsmeade will proceed as planned."_

"Yes, master."

Nothing he said could convince Dumbledore to cancel the Hogsmeade visit. The Headmaster chose to fall in line with that brat's belief that the Dark Lord would attack regardless. Severus's next task would be to speak with the students of his house and ensure they were aware of the attack and stay out of danger.

"_The Carrows, Thorfinn and Gibbon will lead the raid along with twenty of my more expendable members."_

"It is the perfect way to eliminate the weak and unworthy." Severus was trying to figure out what could possibly be the reason for this attack when the Dark Lord revealed it for him.

"_My diversion serves two-fold."_

"Of course, my Lord," Bellatrix smiled, daring to reach out to touch the hem of the Dark Lord's robes before her hand shook and was snatched back. "You are most wise and powerful."

"_While Dumbledore rushes to save the filth, Bella will lead the assault on Azkaban along with Yaxley and Pettigrew. The incompetent Aurors will be easily dealt with and my servants will return to me."_

And Severus understood the underlying meaning of his involvement. This was a test of loyalty. He and Bella were the only two who would know the full extent of the Dark Lord's plan. If Azkaban was warned somehow, his status as spy would be revealed.

"_You will keep all eyes on Hogsmeade, Severus. I am not yet ready for the old fool to know of my plans for Samhain. Not that it matters. For he scorns the old ways and there in lies the path to his destruction and my ultimate rule. Should you fail in this, I shall be very displeased."_

"As you wish will it, my Lord."

"_One more question, Severus."_ The Potions master watched a long bony finger caress the length of the yew wand and barely contained a wince of fear_. "How is it that Potter is concealing his mind from me?"_

The brat had succeeded? "I wasn't aware he was capable my Lord," he answered carefully.

"_Something for you to discover before you are in my presence again, Severus."_ The hand closed loosely around the wand and rose into the air. _"You are supposed to bring me vital information, as my spy, and yet you cannot tell me how Potter has managed to hide his mind away under unbreakable magic."_

"Forgive me, my Lord," he begged futilely, as seconds later he was writhing on the floor under the lash of a Cruciatus curse. He bit his lip in order to hold back the shriek of agony that wanted to burst free, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth where his teeth sliced hard and deep.

"_You have three days to bring me that which I seek."_ The curse was delivered again and this time Severus was held under it's weight for much longer than that horrible first two minutes. _"At that time, I shall have the list of potions for you. Fail me in this Severus, and you shall be punished accordingly."_

**

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**FSFSFS**

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"Harry, it's good to see you."

Remus was looking better these days, Harry was pleased to admit. While his robes were still worn and faded, and the ravages of the full moon continued to take their toll, there was a light in his former Professor's eyes that had been missing since Sirius' death.

The werewolf was the last of the Marauders with two having been murdered and the third turned betrayer. Harry knew how loneliness and loss could burrow deep inside until that was all that was left. So it was nice to see Remus happy. Hopefully, the flirty glances he had witnessed between Remus and Tonks were the cause.

"Hello Remus," Harry greeted the wizard with a small smile, accepting the brief hug and handshake. "How have you been?"

"Good. I returned just yesterday from a mission and I was hoping I would see you tonight before the meeting started."

Dumbledore had brought him to Grimmauld Place early in the hopes that he and Mrs. Weasley would manage some sort of reconciliation. Mrs. Weasley still prepared a large lunch for the members who had the chance to arrive early. She still looked on in disapproval when he, Tonks and Fleur performed a blessing before beginning their meal.

Though they had spoken, Ron's mother continued in her belief that he should neither be following the old ways, nor be allowed to attend the Order meetings. It was times like this that Harry appreciated the patience that Leo was trying to help him find. He liked Mrs. Weasley and didn't want to hurt her feelings but he wasn't her child so she truly had no right to order in him around.

Given that Voldemort would love nothing better than to capture Harry and kill him this War concerned him more than anyone. Dumbledore may not have told the Order the contents of the prophecy but even Remus understood that a confrontation between him and Voldemort was inevitable. Cosseting him wasn't going to help him survive that encounter. This had most of the interactions between him and his best friend's mother stilted and polite, leaving her to fuss over Bill and the Twins who looked like they would prefer otherwise.

"Was there something you needed to speak to me about?"

"I received a letter from the Goblins and your steward, Harry, about this Marauders foundation you started that I've been chosen to run." Remus looked so uncomfortable it might have been funny if the man's self-respect wasn't on the line. "Harry you can't do this."

"I didn't do anything," Harry pointed out, appreciating the surprise on the older man's face. "My parents made that allotment in their will. Because I was raised by the Dursleys, the will wasn't read until I got in touch with Gringotts about my inheritance and I had no idea my father made these arrangements."

"It's too much, I can't accept this."

"And why not?"

Pride was one thing and Harry understood how sensitive that could be, especially for Remus who the Wizarding world reviled and ridiculed because of his curse. There were laws prejudiced against werewolves making it difficult for those who wanted a better life. Gaining decent employment, adequate housing was nearly impossible. Remus would never accept money he felt he hadn't earned. Harry understood the bitter taste of pity well enough to know Remus would hate charity.

"Mum and Dad left the money for that foundation, not just to help you Remus. Do you think it's fair how the Ministry treats werewolves?"

"Of course not Harry," Remus sighed heavily.

"Then why can't you believe that my parents believed that as well? And who better to run a foundation to help those inflicted with lycanthropy than my father's best friend who understands what it's like on a personal level? Who else to trust with their wishes but a fellow marauder?"

Remus still looked like he wanted to protest. Harry placed a restraining hand on his arm, his voice filled with a conviction not even Remus could argue against. "Just think about it. The werewolf packs that have sided with Voldemort have done so because of the promises he's made them. Promises we both know he has no intention of keeping. We can offer them a better alternative, Remus. Somewhere safe to run during the full moon. Hopefully, we can find a potions master skilled enough to brew Wolfsbane."

"I could have wards set so they couldn't leave the property until dawn," Remus suggested hesitantly.

A tentative smile touched his lips. "Think how much better those negotiations would go if you could offer this."

"And this committee you'll need to head? When will you have time to do this, with your training and the War? And who do you ask or how do you even know if they can be trusted? This is too much to put on your shoulders."

"The day to day running will be your responsibility. The other members of the Order have jobs, so that shouldn't be a problem. As far as your missions from Dumbledore are concerned, I think he would agree that this is a good reason to reassign some of them to someone else. And you can help me decide on the other committee members, though I have two in mind that I think will immediately say yes."

"Ron and Hermione?" Remus asked with a knowing grin.

If Remus had asked him that question at the beginning of the school term, the answer would have been unequivocally yes. He would have said that Ron and Hermione were his best friends and he could trust them with his life, so there was no one he would trust with a legacy from his parents more than the two of them.

Now he really couldn't be so certain. The relationship between him and Ron was shaky at best, with the two of them getting along only at a superficial level most days as long as nothing Ron deemed threatening was brought up. How could he trust Ron when he continued to behave this way? What happened when an important decision needed to be made and they were on opposing sides? Perhaps their friendship would be repaired but this foundation needed to be up and running now.

Hermione, he was hesitant to ask, though he knew he could trust her to want what was best for the foundation. She had a tendency to see things only in black and white. Things between them were better since she joined him for his training session and they had a chance to talk. It wasn't just that she took his side against Ron. He had no desire to cause friction in their relationship. He had just needed proof that she still valued their friendship as much as he did. She had refocused on her school work and prefect duties as well, now that the honeymoon period of their romance was ending.

"Hermione, yes. She'll be happy to help and I think she will make a convincing advocate for werewolf rights when we're bombarded by the Ministry for daring to set up a foundation to actually help rather than agree with those bigoted laws they prefer to enact."

"You should definitely consider getting a solicitor involved as well. Tonks' parents operate a small firm that handles cases in both the Wizarding world and the muggle world, they might be able to recommend someone," Remus suggested.

"You've met the parents already?" Harry teased and watched Remus turn an amusing shade of red as he stuttered out a quick denial. "From what I understand, all boyfriends have to do it at some point."

"You're not very funny, Harry. Things aren't like that between the two of us."

"And why not?" He frowned, remembering exactly how Tonks looked every time she was near Remus. The witch practically vibrated with pleasure, making her clumsier than usual.

"First of all, I'm several years older than Tonks." At his scoff of derision, Remus quickly continued, "And let's not forget the changes I go through each month Harry. If Tonks and I were to begin a relationship, she would face all the prejudices I face and I don't want to put her through that."

"I think that if you're lucky enough to love someone, you shouldn't allow what other people believe to stop you from being together. Life is too short to waste love," he finished in near whisper.

This was part of the reason why he was open to exploring a relationship with Blaise. Harry couldn't say where things would end between them. He couldn't even say with any amount of certainty that he would live through this War. Yet he knew that life had a way of changing without any notice. He didn't want Blaise in danger, so he wanted to keep things private for as long as possible but after Sirius' death, he wasn't going to deny himself something as simple as affection because some other people didn't approve.

"Harry," Remus placed a hand to his shoulder in commiseration, both of them thinking of the man who was gone. "Are you sure you don't need to speak to someone about Sirius, even if it's not me. We all care about you Harry and are more than happy to listen."

"We talked about it this summer when you asked," Harry reminded him. He hadn't thought he would survive those first few weeks alone locked in at the Dursleys. He had cried and silently raged against a fate that would take Sirius when he had only begun to live again after his wrongful imprisonment in Azkaban. Guilt ate at his insides relentlessly, as he suffered from the knowledge that it was his poor decisions that had brought this upon his godfather.

He didn't need to speak with anyone. He had come to terms with his role in Sirius' death on his own and continued to handle his grief. He didn't need well intentioned individuals telling him it wasn't his fault, or that no one blamed him, in the hopes of helping him. Those words tended to feel more like he was being placated, so he would hurry and get over his grief so _they_ wouldn't have to see it. Surprisingly, he had already spoken to Blaise a little about Sirius and knew that if he needed to again, Blaise would simply listen and not try to offer advice on how he should be healing.

"I'm fine," he told his former professor, offering a reassuring smile at Remus's look of disbelief. "I'll be fine eventually, is that better?"

"I guess I'll have to accept your word for it."

Remus glanced down at his watch and stood, gesturing to the ballroom where the Order meeting would be held and Harry followed, grabbing his unfinished bottle of butterbeer from the table. As they walked, Remus tilted his head to the side to give him a look that was both curious and worried.

"I noticed that you didn't agree with me totally about the two you would ask for the foundation. Are you and Ron having problems again?"

"Yes but they're more his problems than mine." They would have to see if six years of friendship couldn't be resolved. He had already made his stance clear it was now Ron's move.

"I'm sorry to hear that Harry."

Harry only lifted a shoulder in response. There was nothing he could say to that so perhaps it was best to just set it all aside. As they entered the meeting, he immediately caught Septima and Leo's eye across the room where they sat together with a third seat waiting for him. In the row across from them Tonks waved Remus over eagerly.

"I'll speak to you again before I head back to Hogwarts."

The three only had a chance to exchange greetings before Dumbledore called for the meeting to begin. The next thirty minutes were spent going over old business and reporting on the various missions each member had been out on. Harry was surprised to hear the various alliances the Order sought with different clans of magical creatures and disappointed to learn how many had already sided with Voldemort due to the policies and laws the Ministry had created and the promises Voldemort had made them.

"Severus, I believe you have new information for us?"

The subtlest of glances passed between the two wizards. From what Harry could tell no one else seemed to have noticed. He probably wouldn't have either if he hadn't been looking directly at the potions master and even then he barely caught it. Whatever Snape was about to reveal, Dumbledore had already been warned and the information carefully censored for the ears of the remaining Order members. Harry had realized this summer that the Headmaster kept his secrets close, no matter what his eccentric grandfatherly persona might pretend. Secrets that tended to get people killed.

Snape was setting up the reveal perfectly. He stood slowly from his chair, waiting until he had the attention of all present. He gave them all a look of smug disdain and then his lip curled into a sneer.

"The Dark Lord intends to strike Hogsmeade during the Hogwarts visit next week."

The delivery received exactly the intended response. In fact, judging from the twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes, this little performance was being executed at his command.

It did make Harry wonder. Was this how all Order meetings were run? His first was a complete waste of time, with little to no information discussed as they were all so focused on his presence. Now Harry was dreading the impending arguments about Hogsmeade.

Dumbledore kept very few order members in his confidence. No doubt Snape was one of them considering how much Dumbledore's trust in the bitter man was stressed. Moody was possibly another but not at the same level as Snape considering he was compromised during the Tournament back during fourth year.

"I still believe the visit should be cancelled." Mrs. Weasley's vitriol rose over the bickering voices. Definitely not one of Dumbledore's inner circle. "How can we knowingly place children in danger?"

"If the visit is cancelled won't that compromise Snape's position as our spy?" Bill pointed out, earning him a hostile glare from his mother.

"Not if it's done at the last minute," someone spoke up who obviously agreed with Mrs. Weasley.

"What reason can be given to cancel the outing? Most Death Eater activity has been focused away from both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade," Kingsley reasoned from his seat next to Bill. His appearance was impeccable as usual though he looked just as exhausted as Leo. Whatever the two had been working on was clearly dangerous and draining. He would have to ask Leo after the meeting to see if he could gain a bit more information now that they were back.

"Perhaps if the visit was limited to NEWT level students?" Tonks looked to Kingsley and Moody for support. "They should be capable of defending themselves if a situation arises and most important it puts Harry in the village protecting Severus' cover."

"It's a reasonable compromise," Remus added, ignoring the heated look Mrs. Weasley threw his way that proclaimed him a traitor. She probably believed he should be the most vocal against Harry's presence in Hogsmeade with the potential of an attack.

"You should be trying to protect Harry not leading him into danger!" Mrs. Weasley shouted with her hands thrust tightly on her hips in indignation. "He's a child! He shouldn't even be involved in this war!"

Harry released a pained breath, scrubbing a hand through his hair and strangling the comment he almost made. He had decided before coming tonight that he would try to keep his thoughts to himself for the most part to avoid the disintegration of the meeting, since it was obvious Dumbledore would do nothing but smile and indulge them like they were children.

The discussion unfortunately continued on in this vein with both sides divided on how the attack should be handled. Harry could tell from the Headmaster's expression the Hogsmeade visit would go on as planned. Harry just didn't understand why the wizard allowed this meeting to be so unorganized and unruly, getting nothing accomplished.

"Has anyone researched Samhain?" He leaned over to whisper the question to Septima.

"Not that I'm aware of," she murmured back.

"But we know that Voldemort has something planned, shouldn't we be trying to discover what it is and ways to stop or counter it in some way?" By the time he finished speaking, the voices had silenced and they had drawn the attention of the people present to their conversation.

"I believe Mr. Potter has a valid point," Dumbledore agreed with a knowing smile. "Perhaps it would be wise to investigate what Voldemort's intentions for Halloween could entail?"

That was another thing Harry was curious about. Clearly Dumbledore didn't follow the old ways. All who did never referred to the thirty-first of October as Halloween. Neville and Hermione were still compiling information and they had planned to go over it after he returned from tonight's Order meeting but Harry saw that hope sliding down the drain.

"You mean no one has even bothered?" Harry had to ask. He might hate Snape but Harry knew when the spy gave them information, regardless of how small it appeared to be, it was worth investigating.

The expression on Snape's face was damned near priceless. The wizard looked positively shocked that someone other than Dumbledore or Moody had taken his words to heart.

"Harry it isn't that simple. Each of us has our own duties and missions to be carried out," Remus tried to explain.

"But we know that Voldemort has something planned for Samhain," Harry argued. "That should be our focus, not sitting here arguing over a Hogsmeade visit!"

"It has yet to be decided how to best protect the village." Remus barely seemed to believe his own excuses.

"So Kingsley, Moody and Tonks come up with a security plan. They're the Aurors. Let them assign duties for those best suited to fight. It doesn't take all of us to decide how to defend Hogsmeade."

"Harry, you just don't understand." Mrs. Weasley's condescending voice made Harry snort in disgust.

"I understand that Voldemort is going to attack Hogsmeade and I understand that something is going to happen on Samhain. I also understand that it doesn't take an entire Order to put together a defense strategy when there is an entire War to worry about." His voice was cold with a ill-concealed fury. "I _understand_ that if we aren't prepared, something worse than the slaughter of an entire village is going to happen and we'll have sat back twiddling our wands arguing when we could actually be trying to stop Voldemort's plans!"

"It wouldn't take many of us to compile information about Samhain," Septima spoke up in support of his stance, placing a gentling hand on top of his. "A group of three or four working shouldn't take away from any missions already in place."

That group would be days behind Neville and Hermione. At least some of them were taking the threat seriously. There were some who still believed he should have no say at all and were continuing the argument. To those he wanted to ask how many Death Eaters they had fought. He wanted to demand how many times they had confronted Voldemort and survived to tell the tale.

"Perhaps you wouldn't mind heading that group, Septima," Dumbledore interrupted the disputes, though it seemed to Harry that he didn't want to agree at all. "You have access to Hogwarts' library as a Professor."

"Of course," Septima agreed immediately, flicking a glance at Harry. Good, he would have one more person to help. "If Remus isn't too busy, I'd appreciate his assistance."

"I'm available as my missions to the other werewolf packs must be temporarily suspended. I've recently discovered a new bargaining position that may sway more to our side."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore queried and Harry had to restrain the smile that wanted to spread across his face. It wasn't often the Headmaster wasn't in possession of information. "And what have you found Remus?"

"A sanctuary of sorts. Privately funded. Hopefully with provisions for Wolfsbane but at least a safe place they can go during the full moon. I also have it on good authority the funders are firm advocates of werewolf and other magical creatures' rights with some influence in Wizengamot."

Bill gave a sidelong glance of surprise. "I thought Severus was the only reputable brewer of the Wolfsbane potion?"

"Severus is a renowned Potions Master but not the only one. He would be the ideal wizard to approach for brewing but given his standing at Hogwarts and his other activities it would be wrong to ask him to take on more responsibilities. Perhaps he could recommend a capable Master?"

A private commission of this magnitude almost guaranteed a profitable compensation and Harry could tell Snape wanted this opportunity for himself. Harry actually preferred the bastard since he had a reliable record in producing the complex potion. However with the war it would be foolish to place Snape in a position where his spying might be compromised. In fact, it might be best to find more than one Potion Master.

"So you're willing to help?" Septima asked, bringing them back to the subject at hand

"Yes and I'd be in a position to help with security for Hogsmeade as well."

"Hermione is thinking of restarting the DA, perhaps you could help her with that?" Harry asked earning a sneer from Snape.

"Ah yes, Potter's little group of miscreants. Let's encourage them to disregard school rules."

"There are no rules against the formation of study groups. Not since Umbridge's stupid decrees were overturned."

"We aren't seriously thinking of training children for War!" Mrs. Weasley shouted.

"Whether we like it or not, Molly, the War will come to Hogwarts. Vo-Voldemort will see to that. I believe it is better to prepare now than regret later," Septima chided mildly.

"If it's permissible, I have no objections to helping the study group." Remus agreed.

"Of course, Remus, provisions can be made for you at Hogwarts, thought it may be best to limit those who are aware of your presence in the castle." Dumbledore suggested and though Remus agreed, Harry could see the wizard was hurt by the knowledge that so many would oppose him trying to help the students simply because of his curse.

"And who shall be your third Septima?"

"Perhaps I can help?" Fleur volunteered in a voice that was thick with her accent. "My duties are not so strict at Gringotts. I can floo to Hogwarts in the evenings. Also the Delacour family library is one of the most extensive in all of France. I can owl my parents for materials."

"I welcome the help," Septima smiled and inclined her head to Fleur in thanks.

* * *

**FSFSFS**

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Harry walked into the Gryffindor common room clinging to the edges of a calm anyone would have been amazed he maintained for so long. He wasn't known for having a mild temper, he thought and even managed a small grin as he pictured the look on Hermione's face had he said such to her. He just hated feeling helpless and that's exactly how he felt whenever he returned from an Order meeting.

Perhaps that was Dumbledore's intentions all along, to get him utterly frustrated so that he wouldn't want to be apart of the Order until he was older. A case of being careful of what you wish for. He wanted to know what was going on with Voldemort and the War but knew he wasn't ready to join the others in fighting. Now he had exactly what he demanded and still wasn't satisfied.

After quickly changing into a pair of flannel sleep pants and a grey t-shirt, he risked opening the storage box that contained his family Grimoire since the others were still downstairs. The book was about as large as _Hogwarts, A History _but had been magically enhanced so it was in actuality more than three times its size with pages remaining for him and generations of other Potters to add to it. It was much like the Curious Half-Blood book, divided into sections with an index and contents page.

The Grimoire began with the history of the House of Potter and the family legacy, including an interactive family tree that was self-updating. He traced a finger along the lines, smiling when he touched his parents' names. The Potters had married into many of the other pureblood families, he was startled to note he was distantly related to Sirius but Malfoy's connection was closer and that's why he was able to claim the title. There were several second generation witches in the family tree who married into the Potter family, Harry noted, but his mother was the first muggle-born in several centuries that had married into the Lord line.

The book had chapters on just about everything in magic with particular emphasis on the practice of the old ways. Some divisions were Charms & Spellcraft, Rituals, Runes & Artifacts, Protection & Warding, Healing and Potions. There was a very large section on the Divine that focused on blessings, meditation, divination and something called summoning that he had never heard of before. What surprised him was the section on Sexuality that was just as complex.

When he found the chapter on Elemental magic, he smiled and got comfortable, intent on figuring out how to determine which element he resonated with and if Septima was correct in her belief that it was air. He had gone no further than the first paragraph when Neville entered the room. There was a bounce in the wizard's step and he hummed lightly as he strode toward his bed.

"Hey Neville, you're in a good mood," Harry spoke in a casual teasing way, enjoying the large smile on his fellow Gryffindor's face.

"I had some good news tonight, that's all." Neville grabbed his toiletries and clothes and headed to the bathroom leaving Harry alone once again.

Initially, Harry wanted to go over the Order meeting and Samhain when he returned but Hermione and Ron were off somewhere alone and the last thing he wanted was to dampen Neville's happiness with thoughts of Voldemort and War. There would be time later to deal with the monster's plans; tonight he would concentrate on better things.

He took a moment to store his Grimoire and by the time he had settled Neville returned from the bathroom. "Mind if I ask what your good news was?"

"Not at all," Neville stored his things away and returned to stand in front of his bed. "Luna's father sent his agreement to discuss betrothal contracts at Yule."

"Betrothal?" To say he was surprised would have been a major understatement. "I knew you and Luna were dating but I had no idea the two of you were that serious. I mean aren't you a little young to be considering marriage?"

"I love her Harry," Neville answered with a simple honesty that Harry couldn't argue with. "I know we both have a few years of school left but I know she's the one I want to spend my life with."

He had never felt that way about anyone before, never known a love like that before. Sure he loved Hermione like a sister, and he loved Sirius so much that his death would always cause him pain. He cared about Ron and the other Weasleys, even Remus but he had never _loved_ anyone before. Not the kind Neville spoke of. He could barely understand that kind of devotion. Though he and Blaise were together, and there was attraction and passion between them, Harry didn't know if that would lead to love.

"I'm sorry if it sounded as if I doubted you," he said, hoping Neville hadn't taken offense.

"That's alright Harry. A lot of the people our age are going to have the same reaction. Marriage and bonding are big steps, especially for those of Ancient and Noble Houses. There are many issues to consider before joining two families."

"Sounds like something else I'll need to learn about eventually." Though he wasn't really in a hurry to marry now. Not with the War and Voldemort to contend with before he could even think about a future.

"As the Head of your House you have a great deal more latitude when you decide to marry and bond. Your Uncle might offer advice or suggestions but the decision will ultimately be yours."

"And you chose Luna. Congratulations, I'm happy for you, Neville. Luna's a great person."

Neville accepted the accolade with a nod and a grin. He sat down on the edge of Harry's bed so that they were facing each other. "Thanks, Harry. I'm glad she has a good friend in you. Too many people make fun of her. Except for many of the Slytherins actually, and that's strange in and of itself. Things got better for her with the other houses when they realized she was friends with you."

"I don't know if I had anything to do with it but Luna did tell me about some of the things going on. The girls in her dorm used to steal her things."

"That's stopped," Neville's face twisted briefly in anger before clearing again. "Right about the time the gossip started about the Department of Mysteries and who all was involved. Now they mostly just whisper about her behind her back."

"It's still hurtful," Harry felt a spark of anger of his own. He knew how painful it was to have everyone talking behind his back, especially after all the damaging articles in the Daily Prophet. Words weren't supposed to hurt but sometimes they could cause the worst anguish of them all.

"Yeah, but she knows who her friends are, so Luna's better now. Besides, it's never easy for seers when they're young and still training their abilities."

"I didn't know Luna was a seer." Though it did explain the otherworldly aura about her. "She's nothing like Trelawney."

"That fraud," Neville chuckled, "And I'm so glad I didn't go for NEWT Divination."

"She's real enough, aside from her predictions of death and destruction in class." Harry told Neville how she had given at least two correct prophecies that he knew of. "I just don't know what's wrong with her _'all seeing eye'_."

"Maybe if she stopped with the incense," Neville quipped.

"Or the alcohol," Harry snorted in response. "But I guess that's a mystery right? Maybe her gift is erratic or maybe it's too overwhelming for her to deal with. Either way her reputation is shot. It's a shame it reflects so badly on her class."

"Luna hates her class and it's really hard to get Luna to feel so negatively against anyone. After Hogwarts, she's going to Greece to study with the oracles."

"Greece? I guess you two will get married before then right?"

"Our marriage and bonding ceremony will take place in the August after she finishes Hogwarts if all goes well. I've been looking into apprenticeships there as well, so I can get my Mastery in Herbology."

"Do all marriages in the Wizarding world start with betrothal contracts?"

"Usually those of the Houses and the older more traditional pureblood families, yes. After the contract is finalized we'll have an engagement ceremony a few weeks after my seventeenth birthday. When Luna is legal of age we'll make wedding plans."

"It seems so strange to be discussing marriage. I mean we're still young. I know Mum and Dad married young but I thought that was because of the War but listening to you, I'm starting to think differently."

"They may have married early for several reasons. At the time your father was the Head of his House, children may have been a deciding factor in marrying early. Gran said that's why my parents married right after finishing school. But Harry, marriage and bonding typically occur at a young age in the Wizarding world, especially for women."

"I guess I just wanted them to have married because they wanted to."

"I'm sure they did, despite the things going on around them."

"Is that the reason you and Luna are getting married so soon?"

"I'd be lying if I tried to deny it. Ideally, our engagement would last until I turn twenty-one and took my seat on the Wizengamot. Waiting isn't a possibility for me. Regardless, I love Luna and I know she is the woman I want to spend my life with. Both of us are ready to marry and bond."

Confused, Harry scrubbed a hand behind his neck before asking, "You keep saying marriage and bonding, aren't they the same thing?"

Neville grew quiet and a very pained expression crossed his face. "You know Harry, I'm sure you have your reasons for not bringing charges against Dumbledore but that man should be held accountable for the disservice he's done you."

The quiet fury in Neville's voice was more powerful than had he violently lost his temper. "As much as I want Dumbledore held accountable, my personal issues can't be put ahead of the War. He's manipulative and he keeps secrets that he shouldn't but he's also the best chance the Wizarding world has against Voldemort. The only problem with that is I think Dumbledore has figured that out as well and he's allowed it to affect his decisions. Though he would immediately say his actions were all for the _'greater good.'_"

"It doesn't seem fair that there are no consequences for his actions."

"I think t's safe to say that most of my life hasn't been very fair." Harry lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "So, there is evidently a big difference between marriage and bonding. I think I would prefer to hear about that than discuss Dumbledore."

"Alright," Neville nodded, accepting his decision. "The biggest difference is that marriage is a legal contract. A betrothal contract announces your intentions to marry. It states the dowry given by the bride's family and the bride price offered by the groom. The finances of the groom are discussed along with the settlements to be made. There are usually clauses for children as well."

"I get that," Harry told him.

"Well, the marriage contract solidifies the arrangement and adds any other clauses necessary if they weren't discussed in the betrothal contract."

"That sounds very impersonal."

"And it's meant to be," Neville agreed. "Marriage in the Wizarding world can be dissolved. They're known to occur in families seeking to increase their wealth or between same sex couples who need to produce children."

That definitely caught his attention. He knew things between him and Blaise couldn't remain a secret forever and he was curious at what the reaction of the Wizarding world would be when it was discovered the Boy-Who-Lived was possibly bisexual. "So gay couples are acknowledged?"

"Sure," Neville said in such a way that Harry felt a small pressure lift from his chest. He had stopped caring what they thought of him but he hasn't been looking forward to the first reactions. "There are those who are totally prejudiced against homosexual couples but I think that's more personal ignorance."

"There are muggles who think gay and lesbian couples are amoral. _Freakish_," he finished in a murmur, remembering the disparaging remarks his relatives made about anyone who didn't live up to their standard of normal.

"There are idiots everywhere then," Neville sneered. "The Wizarding World mostly concerns itself with producing children, not who's having sexual relations with whom. That's why there is a difference between marriage and bonding. Those who follow the old ways know how truly different the two are."

"I guess that means bonding can't be dissolved the way marriage can."

"A bonding is never broken Harry. It is a five part binding ritual involving the heart, mind, body, soul and magic. Some couples never bond, that kind of commitment too intimidating. Others will marry first and then bond later as a condition of their contract, usually to be certain there will be at least one child."

"So technically a same sex couple could bond and marry?"

"Yes, if children aren't an issue. If so the couple usually bonds and the line that needs an heir will marry to produce children."

"A marriage of convenience."

Neville was silent for several minutes before he looked up again. Harry saw the question in his eyes before he dared speak the words. "Harry, um, I, well, are you."

It made Harry chuckle really, because this reminded him so much of the eleven year old Neville he knew and not this more mature version who had changed so much over the years. "Am I gay?" To which Neville quickly shook his head. "I don't know for certain. Am I attracted to men, yes, I discovered that recently but then I can safely say I'm attracted to women as well. For the moment I'm just going to say that my preferences lean toward the individual rather than their sex."

"Are you dating Blaise Zabini?"

Harry didn't have a chance to conceal his surprise, "Why do you ask?"

"I thought so," Neville nodded, changing once again back to the man who Harry considered a good friend. "I saw him outside of the Room of Requirement the night of Hermione's birthday party. He was talking to Luna. At the time, I wondered if he was there to see you, especially after you told us you rode the train back to Hogwarts together."

He ran a nervous hand through the front of his hair. No matter how he claimed he didn't care what others thought, he found he didn't want Neville to disapprove. He wondered how he would deal with Ron and Hermione learning the truth. "Does it matter?"

"No," Neville frowned as if he didn't understand, then his mouth opened in realization. "Oh, you mean, no Harry, I don't care if you're gay or not. And if you trust Zabini, then I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He hasn't been apart of the usual Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalries and I heard he has very little tolerance of Malfoy."

Harry remembered Blaise telling him how he had punched out Malfoy and couldn't resist a smirk of pleasure. "We haven't been together long, just started really."

"You should probably speak to Ginny soon then." When Harry asked what he meant by that Neville explained, "Luna told me that since she's broken up with Dean, she has been focused on getting together with you. I'm surprised no one has said anything to you yet."

"Hermione mentioned it briefly the other night. I've never given her any indication that I thought of her as more than a friend." He sighed, heavily, "I know she had a crush on me when we were younger but that should have ended by now, right? She's dated at least three other guys and I barely know her and I'm definitely not attracted to her. I mean she's pretty but then so is Hermione and I'm not looking to snog her."

"And you haven't been in a relationship aside from Cho. She has most of the girls convinced that the two of you are going to get married and live happily ever after."

"Not really interested in doing the sequel to James and Lily Potter, thank you very much," Harry muttered, more than a touch angry. "And she's pushy and more than a tad domineering like Mrs. Weasley. I'm not looking for someone who will try to direct my every thought and action and can't respect my privacy."

"Then I think it would be in everyone's best interest if you made that clear to Ginny." Neville said with sympathy.

"This is just one more thing to come between Ron and I, isn't it?"

A new lash of grief ached in his chest, as one more thing seemed to be contributing to the destruction of their friendship. What infuriated him was that Ron was such a prat about things he had no control over. He didn't ask to be born into the wealthy Potter family. He didn't ask for Voldemort to murder his parents leaving him a famed orphan in the Wizarding world. He didn't want the attention and the press. And he certainly couldn't control Ginny's feelings and couldn't be responsible for being unable to return them.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Neville. And sometimes, I wonder why I'm holding on while he can't be bothered."

"If he's your friend, then this won't matter. If not, isn't it better to learn that now rather than when it truly matters?"


	22. Chapter 22

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**A/N: I'm still here. First let me apologize for taking so long to update. Real life tends to get in the way and I haven't been able to post a new chapter as I've been doing a great deal of traveling these past months for work. **

**I want to thank everyone for the really inspiring reviews. When I started this story I only hoped to write something everyone could enjoy. I'm pleased to have accomplished that. As I have nothing scheduled until the end of July, I should have lots of chapters soon.**

**Here is the next installment of Brave New World. It's rather long but I hope you enjoy it.**

**Rated: M**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse and no profit was made from this writing. **

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**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"_**To the Right, to the Left, **_

_**We will Fight till the Death.**_

_**To the Edge of the Earth, **_

_**It's a Brave New World from the Last to the First."**_

**-30 Seconds to Mars, This Is War**

Fifth year, during the unholy reign of Umbridge, the Room of Requirement was used to teach the members of the DA defensive magic they should have been learning in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. They learned different charms, jinxes and spells ranging from the simplistic disarming spell to the more complex Patronus charm. Since the start of sixth year, the Room had been used for more pleasant things. Hermione's Birthday. Friday night dates with Blaise spent getting better acquainted. As Harry glanced around at the group of students who gathered together that Tuesday evening, he realized he much preferred the room mimicking a vineyard in Italy or a small café in Paris than one prepared to train for War.

Some DA members had left Hogwarts but it still left many who were willing to fight. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. All gathered here, united, just as the Sorting Hat sung but he couldn't help but wonder about Hogwarts' fourth House. Just as he had learned that not all Gryffindors were honorable, it stood to reason that not all of Slytherin was in support of Voldemort. He knew Blaise wasn't, and that probably included Daphne and Tracey. So if that was three, how many more of the House had been wrongly cast into the role of soon to be Death Eater?

He wished there was a way to truly unite the Houses, to get past the prejudices and reach out to those who might even be trapped into following a path they wanted no part of. The only answer he had was to ask Blaise but he didn't want to put his boyfriend in danger from the students of his House. Eventually, he would have to find a way, if only so that he would be able to look at himself without guilt.

Most of Gryffindor had come to the meeting tonight, even Ron, though Harry was positive the only reason Ron decided against remaining in the dorm was the fact that he would have been there alone. He sat with Seamus, Dean and Ginny alternating between talking and glaring at him and Hermione.

If he thought things were strained before, after Hermione came to his training session and was resolved to restart the DA to work on defense, now Ron was being an utter git. Every time Hermione poured over her planner or decided to take a trip to the library, Ron was there trying to distract her, as if he was blind to the fact that War was going to come to Hogwarts sooner or later.

"Is this everyone?"

At his question, Hermione glanced down at the new contract she had drawn up, nerves tightening a line around her mouth. They didn't need to sneak around to meet this year but they needed a way to ensure the information disseminated during the meetings wouldn't make it to the wrong ears. The contract was as close to an Unbreakable Vow as Hermione could make it which was certain to cause a row.

"Yes, that's everyone."

He nudged her forward; they were going to share the responsibilities for the DA this year after all. He just wouldn't have the time to head the DA alone. She gave him an incredulous glare which he returned raising his eyebrows in the pretense of innocence. Her sniff made him smile but she did speak up. "Can I have everyone's attention so we can get started?" Unfortunately her voice wasn't loud enough to cut through the different conversations.

"Guys!" He resorted to shouting to get everyone's attention. "We'd like to get started. Hermione has some things to say to start this meeting off."

"Thanks Harry," she took a deep breath and set her notes aside. "Look, I'm sure everyone has a pretty good idea what I'm going to say. The Wizarding world is at War. We knew it was coming last year, that is part of the reason why we formed the DA in secret. Now the rest of the Wizarding world knows as well. If they didn't, well, that gruesome headline in the Daily Prophet made things pretty clear."

This caused mutterings of agreement from the different groups around the room. He gave her a small smile of encouragement now that she definitely had everyone's attention.

"Whether we like it or not, there is going to come a time when we're forced to fight. We have a relatively decent Defense Professor this year but I'm sorry, _relatively_ isn't good enough against Death Eaters. That is why I believe we need to reform the DA." Everyone started speaking at once forcing Hermione to hold her hands up for silence.

"Is Harry gong to be teaching again?" Susan spoke for her group that consisted of a nice mixture of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who all nodded eagerly, waiting for an answer. If he wasn't mistaken, this was the same group that had invited him, Neville and Luna to library on Wednesdays.

"Not just Harry," Hermione qualified. "I think we all have something to contribute. Some of us are good at things that can be useful during a duel, like transfigurations, or potions. Then there is the first aid course that was offered this year that some of us took. Some of us are even better at strategy." He knew she included that last for Ron's benefit, probably to prove that he played an important role despite his reluctance to participate.

"What is important is that we need to start training together as a unit, so that when the time comes we'll be prepared."

"Before we can get started, however, we're going to need everyone to agree to sign another confidentiality contract." Harry explained, deciding to be the bad guy and bear the brunt of their displeasure.

"But that was last year with Umbridge," Michael Corner pointed out, needlessly. "With her gone, we don't need to sneak around."

"You're right, we won't have to sneak around as much," Harry agreed partially. "Dumbledore has given his consent for us to continue the DA officially to augment Defense classes and unofficially as a line of defense here at Hogwarts. Therefore these meetings still have to remain a secret along with everything that happens within them."

"But no one here would ever spread around what we're doing. We proved that last year."

"Last year, one of our members told Umbridge about the DA. You all know what happened. But you're right, I do trust that you would keep the DA's secrets but we need safeguards in place, not only to protect those secrets but you as well."

He paused to give them a chance to absorb what he was implying. "I am guilty of talking to my friends about things I probably shouldn't at times when anyone can be listening in. Whether we want to believe the worst of our fellow Hogwarts classmates, there are children of Death Eaters at this school. Children who will eventually and willingly become Death Eaters themselves. It doesn't take much imagination to know what could happen if Voldemort discovered you might have information he wants."

He hated to scare them but they needed to understand this wasn't sneaking around under Umbridge's nose to spite her in fun as well as pass their OWL exams. This was War. Lives depended on the DA being able to keep secrets. "Hermione has come up with another sign up sheet, and if you're interested in all the complex magic that went into it, you're welcome to speak with her about it. Basically, when you sign you're promising to hold the secrets of the DA and will be unable to discuss them with anyone who isn't a member."

"Isn't that illegal?"Lavender Brown blurted out with Pavarti quickly agreeing.

"It sounds like an Unbreakable Vow."

"It's not illegal and it's not quite a Vow," he assured them. "It is a magically binding agreement that has consequences should you not hold true to your word."

"And what are those consequences," Lavender asked. "Last year, Marietta walked around with that word on her forehead. Is it anything like that?"

He and Hermione looked at each other, knowing no one would like it. "If the contract is broken, you'll be cursed deaf, blind and mute for six weeks." And he was correct in thinking they wouldn't appreciate Hermione's efforts. Their reactions were quick and vehement from all corners. No one seemed willing to believe the punishment fitting if their creative insults were anything to go by.

"Do you think this is a game?" He roared over the loud arguing, instantly silencing them all. "People are dying! This is War! No one can know the things that go on in this room. It puts lives in danger. Voldemort isn't going to give a bloody damn if you _'accidently'_ tell one of his Death Eating spawn vital information. If this isn't something you can accept, then by all means, say so. No one in this room will condemn you for knowing your limitations. But this is the point of no return. If you're in, you're all the way in."

In the end, every DA member who attended the meeting stepped forward to sign the contract. Harry didn't know whether to be proud or appalled that he had pulled them into something that could likely get them killed. He didn't like putting his friends and classmates in danger but this wasn't just his War. It wouldn't be fair not to give them the opportunity to defend their world. He was pleased they were willing to stand up and fight for what they believed in.

"Harry?" The query came from Susan again, and Harry was starting to wonder if she was the spokesperson for their group. "What about new members? Or will it just be us?"

Since Hermione created the new contract he allowed her to answer. "I anticipated this and decided to leave a clause that will allow Harry and me to approach potential new members. If you know of any student that you feel would make a good addition to the DA, please let us know and we can all discuss it before either Harry or I ask them."

"Only fifth years and over," Harry added. "I know there are probably some third and fourth years that are capable of participating but there is a reason for the restriction. I was allowed to tell you all this, but only after the contract was signed. There is an organization, outside of the influence of the ministry that is dedicated to fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I was recently granted membership to this organization."

"Look at you Harry," Dean grinned boyishly, the tease instantly picked up by Seamus.

"All into the secret organizations," the Gryffindor added, eyes bright with amusement. It provided much needed brevity to a tense atmosphere.

"The DA was formed to learn defense and that will be our roles here at Hogwarts," Hermione explained when she finally had everyone's attention again. "We will defend Hogwarts along with the other teachers."

"Our first task is this weekend. Hogsmeade weekend." He waited, deceptively composed to see how they would handle this new information. "Dumbledore will wait until Saturday morning to announce that this Hogsmeade visit will be restricted to fifth years and above due to the threat of Voldemort. The reason?" He pause looked around the room, at each face, so they would understand just how serious things were getting. "There is supposed to be an attack on Hogsmeade." This caused a small amount of muttering but was quickly quelled when he began to speak again. "The organization will handle defending Hogsmeade. It falls to us to make sure that all of the Hogwarts students who choose to visit make it back to the castle safely."

It was a big responsibility and a prime example of just what they had signed up for. Moody, Kingsley and Tonks had put together a defense plan, with several Order members strategically placed through the town. There would be an Order member in the Hog's Head and in the Three Broomsticks so that the students would be able to floo back to the castle during the attack. Harry was to arrange group leaders amongst the DA and make sure they get the students to one of these two locations or back to the castle on foot safely.

"Dumbledore is going to allow the visit despite the attack?" The trepidation in Lavender's words was mirrored in the faces in everyone in the room. Again this was all apart of War. Decisions had to be made that weren't acceptable under normal circumstances. It was an innocence he hated to strip from their lives.

"Yes."

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_**FSFSFS**_

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When Harry woke that Saturday morning, he knew today would be different from any other where he had confronted danger. This would be unlike his naïve bravado when he was eleven or the rush to save a best friend's sister during second year. He wasn't facing his parents' betrayer or his darkest fears as he had third year, nor the daunting tasks of a tournament he had never asked to partake. There would be no surprise portkey to a cemetery. No resurrection ritual. He wouldn't face ridicule and attacks on his mind as he had during fifth year. No traps. No veil to steal his loved ones.

Today he was making a conscious choice to take his place in the War.

Facing Voldemort and coming out alive was different from confronting Death Eaters in a battle in defense of others. This wasn't about not getting himself killed, today he was fighting to save lives. And he was terrified that despite all of his demands to be included, he would fail utterly and that due to his actions and inexperience someone would die.

Harry felt as if his nerves would never recover from the anxiety and worry of what Voldemort had planned not only for the Hogsmeade visit but for Samhain as well. Not even his Friday night date with Blaise had been enough to calm the foreboding chill that steadily crept up his spine. He had desperately wanted to warn his boyfriend but the contract he had agreed to sign prevented him from giving Blaise the warning to stay in the castle and forego this Saturday's visit. He would have to trust Blaise's information gathering skills within the Slytherin house and hope Blaise was informed of the attack.

Hobbes had dressed him with care that morning. The sleeveless jerkin was heavily textured dark brown suede that was a perfect accompaniment to the slim fitting trousers of the same material. Both were layered heavily with protective spells and charms. The white long-sleeved tunic beneath concealed the wand holster on his wrist but allowed for ease of release. The boots in the same brown as his trousers were comfortable enough to run in. Of course, his appearance drew the eyes and whispers of those who had nothing better to do than gossip about the Boy-Who-Lived but he had more important things to worry about.

"Morning Harry. Neville."

"Morning 'Mione," they both returned in greeting. Harry smiled as she began placing food on her plate for breakfast. Much to Ron's consternation, Hermione had started to leave the dorms early, often arriving minutes after he and Neville had finished their morning blessing. It was a quiet yet pointed way of showing Ron that she supported her best friend and that her romantic relationship wouldn't alter her feelings. It was much more effective than any argument she could ever make.

"I finished revising my research on Samhain last night," she told him after swallowing a bite of toast. "There is just so little information in the library and what I did find pretty much said the same thing. Don't you find that strange?"

"Well in cases like this I've found one of two things. First, it's assumed we already know about Samhain."

"What!" she screeched, drawing the attention of the other students at the table eating. A furious blush spread across her cheeks as she glared at him for chuckling at her expense. "That's not exactly fair to the muggle-borns who are interested, now is it?"

"Not at all," he immediately agreed, "But then there aren't any muggle-borns on the school's Board of Governors', so I'm not surprised."

"Then how are we supposed to learn about these things, if we can't find the information in the most obvious place?"

"I guess whoever is interested would be forced to seek out a sympathetic pureblood who still practices the old ways."

"The old ways," she paused in consideration, "I've been hearing an awful lot about these so called old ways lately."

Harry knew she wasn't intentionally offensive but nonetheless he couldn't hold back a grimace at the tactless way she had phrased her words. Had it been anyone else who didn't know Hermione as well, they definitely would have taken umbrage. "Ginny and Ron have probably been filling your ears about the dreaded prejudice of the old ways and how I'm being corrupted."

"Well yes," she answered hesitantly, "But I truly don't understand why they're making such a fuss."

"After the visit this afternoon, if you're still interested, I can tell you about what I've learned so far." Harry didn't bother to hide his smile at her eager nod of agreement. Asking Hermione to turn down knowledge would be like asking Hagrid to stop bringing dangerous creatures to his class. "Neville can probably tell you more." He would have included Luna but Hermione's steadfast dedication to logic and Luna's otherworldly persona tended to clash fiercely.

Ron stalked into the Great Hall a short while later, taking his seat next to Hermione and greeting them both with a terse good morning before proceeding to fill his plate and eat. Ron only spoke to Hermione when she directed questions to him specifically and just ignored him all together. By the time the morning owls entered the Great Hall, his irritation with Ron was reaching critical levels. He just didn't understand what was going through his friend's head these days. Ron got angry at the slightest perceived insult or infraction to which he responded with a swift rather vicious anger. Especially if it involved his girlfriend in anyway.

"Look!" Hermione's exclamation drew the attention of the surrounding Gryffindors who all turned to the bird that was flying faster than the other post owls.

A small grin of pleasure crept across his face, as he instantly recognized the feathered beauty. He lifted an arm, ignoring the questions stares it drew, and waited. The bird hovered for a moment before alighting on his arm. She was very careful, taking care that her sharp claws didn't pierce through his shirt to prick his skin. Usually, when expecting her, Harry carried the leather bracer his uncle had given him so she could alight comfortably on his arm with no difficulties.

"Good morning, Tempest." The feathers of his winged visitor ruffled, her breast expanding proudly, and Harry almost sensed the happily returned greeting.

"That isn't the usual mail owl," Neville smiled as he too gazed upon her. The crow sized bird possessed the classic blue grey back and barred white breast with a black head and moustache. "One of yours then?"

"Tempest is a peregrine falcon. Potter bred and one of our finest, so I'm told," Harry informed them both proudly, "She belongs to my Uncle Regan. He uses Tempest instead of normal post owls to communicate with me as a way of getting accustomed to the falcons. Says he's supplementing my education. My Grandmother Maeve took an active role in the falconry at Griffin's Keep. Uncle Regan uses this as a way for me to connect with her, to learn to appreciate them."

"She's lovely," Hermione complimented as the falcon preened under his stroking fingers.

"Do you have something for me then?"

Typically, his Uncle sent his letters in the evenings, right after his classes with Leo and Septima, which is why Hermione and Neville had never seen Tempest. As he unrolled the parchment, he was both pleased and saddened about what his uncle had written.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you remember what I discussed during the DA meeting?"

After Moody, Kingsley and Tonks had made their defense plans regarding the Hogsmeade visit, they had assigned tasks for several Order members. Some were given only look out duties. Others would be stationed within the businesses to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity. Harry's orders were simple, he was to gather the defense group from the year before and explain what was going to happen and offer the choice of participating or staying at school. Their orders were to round up all the students and help them back to Hogwarts as quickly as possible using the available escape plans. Most had been disappointed there wouldn't be a need for them to fight but Harry had tried to impress upon them how important it was to keep everyone safe and let the more experienced fighters defend Hogsmeade.

"Yes, of course," Hermione answered, which was probably why she had dressed today more for ease of movement, than for a date with her boyfriend.

"My Uncle wanted to meet for lunch this afternoon. I had forgotten but it seems he will be unable to come." She could obviously see why that would have worried him. The last thing Harry wanted was his Uncle in the midst of a Death Eater battle, regardless of how efficient he was with a wand.

"This is a good thing, right?"

"Yes, I was upset that I had forgotten but Uncle Regan's reason for being absent is quite wonderful actually. It seems I have a new cousin. A fourth cousin actually but Uncle Regan and the baby's Great-grandfather are good friends. She was born just yesterday evening, at half past six."

"But that's wonderful news Harry, why did you look so troubled?"

"I'm trying not to be upset at how much I've missed over the years being stuck at the Dursleys' when I could have been raised with my Uncle. So much would have been different." He didn't dare imagine the things that might not have happened. "I've been invited to the naming ceremony next Saturday and was encouraged to bring a guest."

"A guest?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the humor in her voice, "Yes, I figured out for myself Uncle meant a date." He knew how he was beginning to feel about Blaise but he didn't know if they were at the stage in their relationship to start being introduced to family.

"Well you have the week to decide, right?" Neville asked him, probably having figured out his many dilemmas. "And you can always go alone, I'm sure your Uncle won't mind."

"He probably believes I'm seeing someone now, I mean most normal sixteen year olds are in relationships or at least dating." But no one had ever said he was normal, Harry frowned.

"I'm sure there is someone you can invite if you really don't want to go alone," Hermione told him and Harry didn't fail to see the way Ginny seemed to perk up at those words. He should probably get around to having that discussion with her like Neville suggested. Even if he wasn't involved with Blaise, he wouldn't date Ginny and the sooner he halted that fantasy for her, the better off they all would be, despite the argument he knew it would start with Ron.

"He will figure things out, Hermione." Neville gave him a look of commiseration, proving he had seen Ginny's reaction as well. "The last thing he wants is to give anyone the wrong idea, given his acknowledgement of his Lord status in the Wizarding world. There are many people out there who would like nothing better than to take advantage."

That seemed to set Ron off, who stuffed the last bite of toast in his mouth, then gathered his things and left the table in a rush of anger.

"Well that didn't go well," Hermione sighed.

_**

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**_

FSFSFS

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**_

If he thought breakfast was bad, the Hogsmeade visit was the worst ever. Harry had hoped to use the afternoon to try and get along better with Ron but he had placed Hermione between the two of them making it impossible for the two to talk without placing her in the middle of their discussion. Then Ginny decided to join them which was frustrating beyond measure. The only bright side was Neville and Luna joining them and the funny comments Luna would make that Harry knew were directed at Ginny. The two had been friends before attending Hogwarts but Ginny had cast aside their friendship for more popular ones leaving Luna and her perceived weirdness to the mercy of those who were cruel to anyone different. Neville kept a protect stance near his girlfriend, glaring at Ginny whenever she thought to retort to something Luna had said.

For the first hour, their group paid visits to the usual Hogsmeade haunts, starting with a visit to Honeydukes. As the younger years couldn't visit, they were each charged with purchasing a few sweets to bring back to the dorms.

From there things went bad rather quickly. Neville and Luna decided they wanted to spend some time alone and headed towards Dervish and Bangs, leaving him with a clingy Ginny who had attached herself to his arm with a determination that he definitely found worrisome. Hermione gave him a hopeful look that he hated to disappoint but he did with a slight shake of his head. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to get the wrong idea and start spreading rumors about him and Ginny that could get back to Blaise.

Hermione dragged them to Scrivenshaft's right after Ron's stop into Zonko's and he managed to get away by claiming he needed to pick up something from Gladrags and would meet them later for lunch in the Three Broomsticks. He left them with a reminder to keep their eyes and ears open for the attack before rushing out of the shop so quickly Ginny was unable to follow. He may need to speak to Ginny but he wouldn't do it in the middle of Hogsmeade so that the argument would end up as fodder for the front page of the Daily Prophet.

After he exited the shop, Harry turned in the opposite direction of Zonko's just in case Ginny decided to join him. He gave distracted waves to classmates who occasionally called out a greeting but his mind was focused more on escaping. So focused that he wasn't paying attention to the where his hurried steps were taking him. He took one corner very quickly and shuffled to a stop so that he wouldn't crash into the small group who had been standing in front of one of the stores.

"So, Harry Potter we meet again."

It was Slytherin disdain at it's finest but underneath the words, was a tone of amusement that told him that the intention behind the words was the exact opposite. When Harry looked up, he couldn't stop the open friendly smile that overtook his features. It didn't seem fair that Blaise should affect him so. Yet, every time that steady gaze met his, Harry felt a ripple of need stir in not only his heart but in his magic as well. He could almost hear Blaise's voice, thick with a desire almost tangible, murmur in his ear like the last time they were together. The caress of warm breath against his cheek as Blaise brushed his mouth there, before a hand spread against the base of his spine, drawing their bodies closer.

Harry barely managed to choke back the fresh wash of arousal, uncomfortably aware of their surroundings. Instead he focused on Blaise's companions who were just as beautiful and elegantly put together as the day from the train. Both women's expressions were amused at his expense, telling him that his thought had probably been broadcast clearly on his face as usual. Tracey's smile had a teasing edge that he was coming to appreciate as a part of her personality. He didn't know the two quite as well as he knew Blaise, but he had noticed that Daphne was more reserved than her counterpart.

"Daphne, Tracey." He inclined his head in greeting to both women. "It's good to see you again."

"You're looking fit there," Tracey said with quiet approval.

"A definite improvement, Lord Potter," Daphne agreed, as she leaned lightly into Tracey, almost as if they were more than the friends he thought them to be. He paused as the thought settled into his mind. This wasn't the first indication Daphne and Tracey had given that theirs was a more intimate relationship. His thoughts must have shown on his face for Daphne gave an almost imperceptible nod. An equal trade, he realized. Since they were obviously aware of his relationship with Blaise, they were allowing him to know of theirs.

"I had good help, I'm afraid all of my taste resides solely in my mouth." Tracey's infectious laughter drew a reluctant chuckle from Daphne as well.

"I think it's safe to say, that you have quite distinguished tastes these days." Daphne retorted, keeping her features deceptively composed, despite the amusement glimmering in her eyes. She was obviously talking about Blaise. "I certainly approve."

"Thank you. And the two of you are lovely as always."

"Why thank you Harry."

"And if the three of you are quite done," Blaise drawled, shaking his head indulgently. "I expect such silliness from Daphne and Tracey but I'm surprised at you encouraging them, Harry."

"It was fun," he shrugged, not even trying to hide his smile. He couldn't indulge in that kind of behavior with Ron and Hermione, for fear they might take it the wrong way. Subtle nuances were not a Gryffindor's strong suit. "Nothing wrong with harmless fun." The words were an echo of Daphne's words back on the train to his reaction to their making bets on just about everything.

"He's learning," Daphne acknowledged.

Rather than answer, Blaise stepped forward to take his wrist lightly, allowing their hands to slowly clasp in greeting before releasing him. "Harrigan."

"Blaise," Harry whispered, feeling his breath catch.

"You were right, Tracey, they do make a lovely couple."

He couldn't help the flush of heat that crept up his neck to his face, it was the first time someone had referred to them as couple. He liked it. Blaise's mouth tipped with a satisfied grin that reminded Harry of the way Nefertiti would curl into his lap after a thorough petting. He wasn't surprised that Blaise had confided in the two witches, as they were obviously best friends.

Under different circumstances he would like to share the news of his new relationship with his friends as well. There were so many ways that revelation could go wrong. He didn't think there would be a problem with Blaise being a male but he wasn't certain how Ron would react with the way things were between them lately. With Blaise being a Slytherin, it wouldn't be pretty.

"So let me guess," he pushed the unsettling thoughts aside for the time being, not wanting to deal with what may or may not happen to his and Ron's friendship. He gestured to the small side street with its line of quaint buildings and stores that were less obvious than Hogsmeade's main street. "This just happens to be snake territory?"

"No," Tracey rushed to assure him. "We simply don't find many Gryffindors on Sisters Way, as these stores normally cater to those who follow the old ways."

"It's my first time down this street. I don't think I even realized Sisters Way was here until today." He had left without thought to where he was heading. Dangerous, considering what he knew was coming this but desperation had made him thoughtless. "I was actually hoping I might see you, so that I could thank you properly for your assistance. The reading proved to be very enlightening."

Tracey slipping the little book into his things was the catalyst for all the new changes in his life. Without her, he may have continued on ignorant of his heritage and family until Dumbledore deemed it time and who knows how long that may have taken. The sad fact was there was no guarantee that he would destroy Voldemort, so he had no idea what would Dumbledore have done if that were the case.

"You're welcome." This was a trait he was starting to appreciate in Tracey. She wasn't one for false modesty or humility. If gratitude was offered, she courteously accepted it and moved on and wasn't uncomfortable the way he often was. "Are you free to join us or must you return to your friends?"

She was offering a chance to spend some time with his boyfriend. He didn't know if it was safe to accept, honestly. A quick glance at Blaise's benign face proved that he was willing, though unless someone looked deep into that mocha gaze, it would seem otherwise. It was unlikely that his friends would find their way down this street, though Neville and Luna might. Ron and Hermione would stick close to their usual shops. Frankly he was almost as curious about what he would find on Sisters Way as he wanted to be with Blaise.

"If you're sure it's okay."

The sentence seemed to settle the matter, for Tracey quickly looped her arm into his, giving him an eager smile of pleasure. "Of course it is. We were on our way to Nimue's Secrets. I need more meditation candles."

_FSFSFS_

Harry turned at the hand on his shoulder, a wide smile beginning at the welcome sight of Blaise. Daphne and Tracey were somewhere on the other side of the shop debating the differences between scarlet and crimson candles, something he was sure only girls ever truly understood no matter what house they resided. He had noticed a shelf of books on rituals in the old ways and hoped to find a lead on what Voldemort could be planning for Samhain. Blaise told him that Voldemort's desecration of the small village at Autumn Equinox was a rite corrupted from the old ways and made into something black and abominable. It stood to reason that Voldemort might have similar intentions for Samhain.

"Hey."

The Slytherin had a slight smile but there was concern there as well. A warm hand cupped the side of his face, "Hello."

Taking a step closer until they were now touching, Blaise looked down at him with such passion that it made his breath catch. Now what had brought this on? They had met for their usual Friday date just last night, this time a late dinner in a replica of magical Giza, Egypt. The desert city at night was beautiful and he had enjoyed Blaise's reminisces about his trip there with his mother the year he turned eleven.

His hands clenched the front of Blaise's robes, steadying himself, even as the rich masculine scent he was coming to adore enveloped his senses. Heat and arousal raced blood straight to his groin. "I didn't think I would be able to spend time with you today. I'm glad but it's a surprise nonetheless."

Blaise nodded slowly taking another step forward so they moved further into the shadowed corner and his back pressed against the wall. "I guess it was serendipitous that you were turning the corner of Sisters' Way when we were standing there. I was keeping an eye out for you this afternoon. I was worried about you."

"Worried? Why?"

"I saw what happened with Weasley this morning. I think everyone in the Great Hall noticed. I just wanted to know if you were alright."

"I'm fine." At Blaise's raised brow Harry was forced to amend his statement. "I am, really. Ron and I have been at odds for a while now. I just hate we had another episode in the middle of the Great Hall at breakfast. I expect front page coverage in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning."

"What are you going to do next?"

"About Ron?" Harry asked, then shrugged at Blaise's nod, "I have no idea, really. He's so focused on me that he can't appreciate the good things in his life. He has so many insecurities that he probably feels guilty for having. Then he takes that guilt out on the people around him. Me most of all." He let his hands rest against Blaise's chest, enjoying the simple comfort his presence brought him. "I don't know what to do anymore but I am done making excuses and apologizing for his actions."

"I can't tell you what you should do about Weasley, but I will support whatever choice you make."

"Thank you. Unconditional support is a rarity in my life. Normally, people want something from me."

"Oh, I want something," a sensual grin curved his lips at the suggestive drawl, "But I'm pretty sure you would find it a fair trade."

"Really?" He offered a smile of his own, leaning forward so that his hands slid up his chest to lace around the back of Blaise's neck.

"Yes really," Blaise murmured and lowered his head, brushing his mouth against his. It was another one of those slow drugging kisses, sweet and gentle and it made his already shimmering need flare to life. Then Blaise deepened the kiss, a clever tongue licking lightly at his lower lip, tempting him to open and he was helpless but to follow. Moaning as he followed the caress back to the warm depths of Blaise's mouth returning the erotic touch with a stroke of his own.

When Blaise pulled away, they were both slightly out of breath and he could feel the tremor in the large hands on his face. "Not that I'm complaining," Harry began, lifting his eyelids slowly to see the heat in the intense mocha that watched him in return. "But is something wrong?"

"I worry about you," Blaise murmured, brushing the hair away from his face. "I guess you know there's going to be an attack today."

"I hoped you knew," he sighed glad that Blaise had brought it up first. Now he could speak of it freely without fear of retribution from the contract. "Another reason why I was hoping to see you today."

"Most of Slytherin remained back at the castle. You'll notice Malfoy and his minions are absent today. The girls and I decided we would come in to keep an eye on the students who decided to go, help keep them out of trouble." He paused, his thumb tracing a path against his cheek. "And I knew you would be here right in the thick of things, as usual."

"I think that's my lot in life. I'm just grateful I'm not alone."

"No," Blaise shook his head and leaned down to rub his cheek along the line of his jaw, making him shiver. "You'll never be alone, not if I'm capable of standing beside you." Their lips met again, a bit more heated this time. "When this is done, I'd like a chance to spend some time with you."

"I'd like that too. In fact, I was invited to a cousin's naming ceremony by my Uncle and was instructed to bring a guest."

"And you're inviting me? Are you certain you want others to know about us so soon?"

"I'm tired of worrying about what everyone will think. I just don't want our relationship to put _you_ in danger. If you think coming with me will do that, then we shouldn't expose what we have yet."

"I can take care of myself, Harrigan, I was thinking of you and the problems our relationship would bring you."

"The people who truly matter will want me to be happy. They are the only ones who opinions are important to me," he reached up to place another kiss on Blaise's mouth. Hands slipped away from his face and down the length of his body to grip his hips so that he was nestled perfectly against the heavy erection not even Blaise's robes could conceal. "I don't know how long I can take not being able to touch you whenever I want," he whispered.

"Damn it Harrigan," Blaise growled, pulling back, that fire in his eyes proclaiming how dangerously close to losing control he was. "Not fair."

"You started it," he chuckled, burrowing closer so that Blaise couldn't get away, "I was just standing here, all innocent, when you came an accosted me."

Blaise covered his mouth again, their kiss carnal and very demanding, pressing him harder into the wall. The man knew how to kiss. Hell he trembled just from the touch of Blaise's hands and mouth. "Bloody hell, you feel good," he murmured roughly against Blaise's lips.

"But," Blaise broke off and Harry knew that he had a firmer hand on his control now as he leaned his forehead against hers. When they had a real moment alone, he couldn't wait to break that control. What would come between them then was promising to be amazing. "I'm sure Daphne and Tracey have had enough of our show." He finally smiled, but it was self mocking. Sure enough, Harry could hear light giggles coming from behind them, where the girls waited.

_FSFSFS_

"

Will you be joining us for lunch? There is a little place at the end of the lane that you might enjoy."

Harry looked down at his watch, surprised that so much time had passed. Even more so, as he realized how much he had enjoyed spending it with Blaise, Daphne and Tracey and not his usual crowd. He knew he should head back but found himself reluctant to do so. Then he caught his reflection in the front window of the store they had just exited, and was forcibly reminded of why he needed to get back.

"I told the others I would meet them for lunch at the Three Broomsticks." Still, he was reluctant to leave for he didn't want to leave them back here on this quiet side street alone despite the fact that they knew what was coming.

"Maybe next visit," Blaise compromised when Tracey looked like she wanted to protest. "We'll walk you back to Main Street."

The journey back was made in silence, anxiety building in his stomach that told him something was going to happen. Soon Hogsmeade would be attacked by Death Eaters and there were no guarantees of the outcome. They reached Main Street and Harry turned to look at his companions, struggling with what he needed to do and what he actually wanted. And that's when he realized there was something he could do, something he had been withholding a decision on for weeks now.

"So do you still study in the library on Wednesdays?"

The happiness on Tracey's face was immediate, for she had been the one to issue the invitation. Daphne leaned into Tracey's shoulder as a generous smile curved her lips free of any hesitation. Blaise merely nodded, as if he had known Harry would make this decision all along.

"Yes, we would be pleased to have you join us."

"Then, I'll see you all then," he confirmed and it was a decision he felt good for having finally made. Even better, he stepped forward to place a hand on Blaise's chest to steady himself as he knew outing their relationship on Main Street of Hogsmeade would definitely have some consequences. Consequences Harry couldn't bring himself to care about in this moment.

"I'll see you then." And he reached up to brush his lips across Blaise's.

Those consequences came sooner than he might have anticipated.

_"Harry?"_

_"What the Hell!"_

He didn't jerk away from Blaise at the sound of Ginny and Ron's harsh exclamations. Such a move would have implied guilt and he wasn't ashamed of his feelings. He knew what he had been risking when he kissed Blaise goodbye. Even now with his friends surrounding them, stunned, silently amused or red faced with fury, he wasn't sorry.

"Harry?" Hermione sounded more hurt than anything else. She knew he was seeing someone but Blaise Zabini was probably the last person she expected.

"Wha- What the bloody hell is going on here?" Ron sputtered repeating himself in his rage. Along with his flushed face, and the thin line of his mouth, his fists were gripped tightly at his sides as if waiting for the moment to strike out.

"Maybe we should all calm down," Daphne suggested, trying to control the situation before Ron made a scene.

"You, you just shut up!" Ron's roar earned him an elbow to the side from Hermione for having shouted at another girl so disrespectfully. Blaise had tensed behind him and Daphne had a restraining hand on Tracey's arm who already had her wand in hand.

"Ron, you need to calm down before you really embarrass yourself." Neville who had an arm around Luna also had his wand in his hand, prepared to stop Ron from doing something he would probably regret. Then Neville proved he was the consummate gentleman. "Zabini, Miss Davis, Lady Greengrass," he bowed his head in greeting. "Perhaps we should move this somewhere a little more private."

But Ron was too caught up in his own anger to listen to reason. "Harry, what the hell are you doing? First it was the pureblood shite and now this. You're kissing Zabini? A Slytherin?"

"Something must be wrong with him," Ginny put in. Her eyes were wet with tears that she was trying to hold back. "Harry hasn't been himself since school started, this just proves it. We should get him to Madam Pomfrey. And we definitely should tell Dumbledore, he won't stand for this."

"Dumbledore has no control over who I date, or what I believe." Harry pointed out, "So you can tell him whatever you like. There is nothing wrong with me."

"You don't find anything wrong with kissing a Slytherin boy in the middle of the street?" Ginny demanded.

"No."

That only set them both off again and nothing Neville or Hermione said could stop it. Harry listened as Ron's words grew more vicious and cruel than anything Malfoy had dared utter to them. They insisted something had happened to him and Harry had to wonder if just the opposite was true. Had something happened to Ron to bring about such an ugly change? He knew Ron didn't care for Slytherins but Harry had no idea just how deep that hatred ran until now.

The scream of pure terror cut across their argument, instantly silencing the vitriol spewing from Ron's mouth. Harry didn't know exactly what was it's cause but he needed no further signal that the attack on Hogsmeade had begun. He sent a glare toward Ron, furious that he had allowed such trivialities to overshadow his common sense. Blaise gripped his hand tightly, a question there in his eyes and Harry looked from him to Daphne and Tracey, three Slytherins the others would have a difficult time trusting. His instincts told him that Blaise was more reliable than Ron at this moment and if the man he was growing to care for vouched for Daphne and Tracey then he pray they were capable of fighting and place his faith in them as well.

"Death Eaters are attacking," he explained bluntly. They had no time for skirting around the issue. Lives were at stake.

"Harry you can't!" Hermione yelled but was quickly outdone by Ron who insisted Blaise probably already knew about the attack, probably had some hand in it. Then claimed their kissing as proof as a way to keep Harry distracted. Yes, Blaise knew about the attack but explaining to Ron who was so furious and unreasonable at the moment would be impossible.

Neville and Luna looked quietly on as if reserving judgment. No, as if waiting for him to pass judgment and he knew that whatever decision he made regarding the three, they would abide by for they trusted him just that much. Though, Harry had reason to believe Luna knew a great deal more than she let on.

"We don't have time for this," he shouted back, ignoring the hurt look on Hermione's face. "I didn't tell the DA about this attack so that we could pick and choose who deserved to be saved. That's not the way this is going to work. If Blaise and Daphne and Tracey can help get the other Slytherins back to Hogwarts safely, then we need to work together."

"They will just run back to Voldemort and tell him everything, Harry don't you see that!" Ron insisted, his face awash of red in both his conviction and rage. "Have you been so corrupted that you don't get that? Is snogging this slimy bastard more important to you than the people who are supposed to matter?"

"If you have nothing positive to say right now, Ron Weasley, you can just shut the bloody hell up!"

And finally, the Potter temper he was so known for had reached it's limit. "I don't give a damn what you think about me and Blaise, but right now we have something more important to deal with than your stupid prejudices and your precious personal feelings. Grow the fuck up! People are out here dying and I'm standing here arguing with you!"

"Harry, what do you need us to do?"

He would never be more grateful to Neville than in this moment because he was certain his and Ron's next words would have brought them to blows. Instead, he pressed a shaking hand to his forehead, trying to focus and remember the plans that had been so carefully constructed the night before.

"Hermione, cast the charm on the galleon to notify the other DA members to the attack, though I'm sure they are already aware. Remember the plans. Stay in pairs and watch each other's back. Don't try to join the fight. That's not our job. Our jobs are to get the students back to Hogwarts as quickly and as safely as possible. Take as many as you can."

What greeted them was worse than anything Harry could have imagined.

Hogsmeade was in flames.

Voldemort had planned well. That he was a tactical genius was never in doubt, the few Order members available were too divided. Some were trying to battle the fire eating away at the older buildings before it could leap to the next and engulf it. Others were throwing curses at the Death Eaters who were steadily making their way through town.

Voldemort's minions worked in groups of three, of which Harry had counted seven. This totaled at least twenty Death Eaters who had no qualms about casting not only for maximum carnage but to kill, proven by the flares of green light that felled Hogsmeade residents in one moment and left another with a gaping hole in the stomach and blood spilling onto the ground beneath them. By working in threes, if an Order member cast a stunner, the Death Eater was immediately revived.

"Spread out!" Harry yelled over the roar of chaos that had engulfed them the moment they entered the main street. "If you can, try to help the Order members put out some of these fires so they can fight but remember, concentrate on getting the Hogwarts students to safety."

Hermione immediately grabbed Ron and took up a defensive position behind him but for the first time he said no. It hurt, like someone had closed a fist around his heart and squeezed with a violence that shot pain through his chest. Ron was supposed to be his best friend, he should be able to count on him to defend his back. Yet Harry saw the rage in the depths of Ron's gaze and knew for the first time he could not depend on him.

"You two are the prefects for our year, you know who all came to Hogsmeade, I need you to keep a look out for any student who didn't make it back with a group."

"I'm not leaving you here alone to fight." Hermione insisted.

Before another argument could start, the red flare of a curse shot between them. They all dove for the ground, screams of surprise following a hard landing. "Is everyone alright?"

He looked over to see Neville shielding Luna protectively with his body, whereas Blaise had done the same for Daphne and Tracey. Ginny lay sprawled to one side, panting heavily, and fear alight in her eyes as she finally accepted the danger of their circumstances. Hermione and Ron gripped each other, having fallen next to Neville eyes wide at the sudden violence that had almost struck them. Harry rolled to his feet, wand in hand as he summoned the thick wood and stone planter filled with the late blooms of white and yellow campion that sat in front of a shop. Several wand movements later and they were safely concealed behind a barrier but unfortunately it wouldn't hold against more than a few spells.

"Neville and Luna, take the left side of the street. Check the buildings that aren't on fire to see if anyone is inside. Daphne and Blaise, you take the right. Ginny and Tracey guard the rear, make sure nothing comes up behind us. We should be safe, I don't think any Death Eaters managed to get behind us but better safe than sorry.

"Harry please," Hermione begged, her eyes wet with tears. "Don't do this. Don't send us away."

"Hermione, it's more important that you help with the evacuation. The Hogwarts students know you, they need your calm head because I can guarantee they're probably panicking right now."

"Well so am I!" she shouted, the tears she had been struggling against spilled forward onto her cheeks. "We have to stick together, Harry, we always stick together. Ever since first year!"

"Brains and cleverness," he smiled, grasping the hand she held out to him. Both of them remembering when Ron lay unconscious at their feet having sacrificed himself so they could move forward to save the Stone. How different things were then. Their arrogance. The sheer naïve belief that good would triumph over evil. Now so much had changed. He and Ron almost coming to blows. The knowledge that sometimes evil won and there really were monsters.

"I need you to let me go and those students need you to help them, 'Mione. You know it's the right thing." And she did, he saw the awful realization there in her eyes. "Now go!"

She threw herself into his arms, squeezing him as though she would never let go. He was forcibly reminded of the fact that she had given him his first hug. "Stay safe, Harry," she whispered in his ear and then she was releasing him, already turning toward The Three Broomsticks to run away.

Just as Harry predicted, his blockade was struck with a powerful blasting curse and was shattered into pieces. A quick thinking shield charm on Neville's part, protected them from the worst of the debris. "We should get moving," Neville suggested when the dust cleared.

_FSFSFS_

Blaise couldn't believe what Harry had just done.

Not that he had a problem fighting, for he and Daphne and Tracey had already decided that they would eventually be forced to make a stand after the Dark Lord massacred an entire village using a corrupted ritual from the old ways. The choice didn't require much thought on his part. He would stand with Harry, for how could he stand aside and allow the person he was coming to care for to fight in a War for their world alone.

He just hadn't expected he would expected to fight so soon but isn't that the way things usually worked out. The fight didn't wait until you were prepared. There was no right time. And Harry and his friends had been doing this for five years.

During his argument with Weasley, Daphne had caught his eye, the unspoken question of what to do waiting to be answered. Whatever he decided they would stand by him. They might not have had the same experiences as the Golden Trio but it didn't mean they were any less loyal to each other. An arched brow was all he would give telling them both that the decision would be their own and he would respect it either way. To which, Daphne rolled her eyes and a smile curved Tracey's lips.

_'Of course we're with you idiot,'_ those responses said.

Then Harry did the unimaginable, he sent Granger and Weasley away leaving him with only Longbottom and Lovegood and the Weasley chit to guard his back. Not only that, but he stayed with three Slytherins publically stating that he trusted them just as much as any Gryffindor. He would have to explore why that left a light elated feeling in his chest, for the moment he had to concentrate on making it through this Hogsmeade visit alive.

It was ironic, by planning this attack when Hogwarts students were sure to be present, the Dark Lord had harmed his cause more than he could realize. All of the children of neutral families were certain to owl home and discuss what happened today with their parents. Those parents would not be pleased. If Blaise knew his Grandfather, he certainly would be extremely upset that the Dark Lord had jeopardized the Zabini heir.

"There," Daphne shouted, pointing to Zonko's joke shop. The roof was on fire and swiftly spreading. It was only a matter of minutes before the entire building would be engulfed in flames. Standing in front of the building were the Weasley twins and Susan fighting off a Death Eater. Inside they could see Terry, Hannah struggling to keep the fire contained as best they could, keep an eye on the fight being waged and safeguard the people who were inside. Members of their coven were in danger. That was unacceptable.

Harry had his focus on shielding Longbottom who was pulling two children who couldn't be more than seven or eight from the small alley. "Give us some water Tracey," he murmured, taking her position as guard. There were plenty of charms she could have used but Tracey was well conversed in the old ways which mean she had connected with her element.

Tracey closed her eyes and took a deep breath and he could feel the magic stir around her. The sensation of it was the complete opposite of his own but almost just as familiar. She raised her wand pointing to the flames above the dueling Weasleys and her eyes snapped open.

"_Hydrae_."

Water, icy and pure spewed forth, the burst much stronger than the weaker charms everyone else was using. It spiraled around her arm and held, rippling under the pressure of being contained, waiting for her command.

"_Inrigatus!" _And it was free, rising high to take on the form of a water serpent mouth open and fangs extended to strike and strike it did slithering across the roof, engulfing the flames almost as if eating them, before the flames was extinguished. It moved on to the building next to it and did the same before the spell released.

"_Praehensus_," Daphne's spell ripped several thick vines free of the earth, wrapping the Death Eater in a plantlike cocoon made all the more affective when a Weasley twin's spell hit him.

Two wands were immediately pointed in their direction, but Susan's hand came up and pushed them away. "It's alright." The twins didn't look entirely trusting but with the chaos going on around them, were willing to give them the benefit of the doubt for the moment.

"Ginny, get back," one began.

"To Hogwarts! Mum would have," the other continued.

"Our heads if something happened to you!"

"I'm old enough to fight. And I'm not leaving Harry out here alone with them!" She glared at them with suspicion, the same people who had just helped her brothers.

"It looks like Harry doesn't need your help," Susan grit out, before pointing to Harry and Longbottom who stood in front of a fallen wizard, fighting three Death Eaters while Lovegood shielded the man on the ground and two small children.

Longbottom was better than Blaise would have given him credit for considering his performance in Potions class in the past years. He cast spells at his opponent before shielding against one with the ease of someone who had been in this situation before. He thought Longbottom's performance in Defense class was an aberration, due to the encouragement of his fellow Gryffindors. It seemed this was not the case.

Yet, next to Harry, it looked like Longbottom was trudging through thick sludge. Harry had disarmed, stunned and tied up the first Death Eater and made quick work of the second before he could think of retaliating, giving them all a display of just how skillful a wizard he truly was.

"Get everyone out of here and the students back to Hogwarts," Blaise told Susan who blinked in surprise.

"Harry told you?"

"Yes. We need to move on quickly before anyone gets hurt."

"It's too late."

Luna's declaration caught the attention of everyone, panicked eyes quickly turning in her direction. Luna's face was blank, her eyes wide yet seeing nothing as they were covered with a hazy film and everything about her was focused inward. The wand in her hand had fallen to the ground and Neville had come behind her, poised to protect her even with his life if necessary.

"Death is here."

What crested the top of the street was something no one ever wanted to glimpse in their lifetime. Yes, death had come and Blaise thought he knew what the Dark Lord had done to those villagers during Autumn Equinox. "Inferi." Despite the chaos around them, his murmur might as well have been a shout for the gasps it drew forth.

"Divine protect us," Daphne's shaky whisper was echoed by Tracey and Susan for they understood exactly what was drawing closer to them.

Inferi would cleave and tear and kill under the command of their master, which was most assuredly the Dark Lord. They were virtually unstoppable and utterly without mercy for they were only reanimated corpses. They held no conscious and were impossible to reason with. Their only goal was death. Luna was right Death had come.

"We need to retreat," Neville suggested. "Harry did you hear me? We need to run."

"We can't leave yet. We don't know if we have all the students out of here." Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out a galleon, tapping it with his wand. "What kills Inferi?" When no one responded, he shouted the question again. "What kills Inferi!"

"Fire," Tracey choked out. "We need fire."

Sure enough, there were several witches and wizards who were casting fire spells at the coming hoard of Inferi but it was having little affect and they were being pushed back.

"Blaise can't you do something," Daphne pleaded.

"I don't have anything powerful enough to stop that."

"You can cast Fiendfyre," Daphne reminded him but he shook his head.

"I can't control it, not well enough or long enough. I would end up burning Hogsmeade to the ground. Where is Dumbledore?" Why hadn't the Headmaster come down to help them, it was certain that he knew what was going on. He couldn't be sitting in the castle simply waiting for them to return. Dumbledore was powerful enough to maintain the control necessary to cast the dangerous fire spell.

"Harry!"

Blaise turned to see Granger and Weasley rushing back toward them. The two caught up easily, as the street behind them was virtually empty. "Most of the students made it back to Hogwarts, there are still a few unaccounted for but they aren't in the shops behind us." This meant they were either trapped in the commotion ahead or worse. "We should get back to the castle."

"We can't leave the Order here to fight this alone!" Harry shouted as he pointed to the Inferi.

"Then what do you want us to do Harry?" Neville's calm question was echoed in the minds of everyone there.

_fsfsfs_

A muscle flicked angrily at Harry's jaw as he watched the death and devastation wrought by the Death Eaters and the plague of Inferi that accompanied them. He heard the cackle of some witch as she set yet another fire to one of the buildings where the people of Hogsmeade etched out the living that supported their families. Buildings where he and his friends had come from Hogwarts and were welcomed as a tradition that had been laid down for more years than he had been alive.

And a righteous fury built in his stomach.

This wasn't the first nor would it be the last. Voldemort would continue to lay waste to everything he touched, not because he wanted to change the Wizarding world. Not even because he was prejudiced against muggles and muggle-borns. No, Voldemort was evil. A monster. And the people he corrupted, that raped and slaughtered in his name, eventually became just as gruesome as the malevolence they bowed before.

The Death Eaters could be caught and tried and sent to Azkaban. That was proper justice. Voldemort would just free them again so they could continue on killing because they had a taste for murder and reveled in the fetid perversion their magic had become.

Harry looked down at the hand gripping his arm, then to Neville's eyes. Another victim of Voldemort's madness. He looked over at his friends and wondered how much his hesitance and unwillingness to simply accept a destiny he didn't want had affected their lives. Deep down he knew this moment would come and had fought it with everything in his heart. Even when he accepted the training with Septima and Leo, part of him had yet to truly understand what would become his role in this War.

And that small struggling part of his heart that screamed for his innocence, hated the burden the Wizarding world insisted on placing on his shoulders, and cried for the blood that would be spilt by his hands, stilled. Stilled as it watched women and children cut down before his very eyes. Stilled at the pleas of help that were strangled off by a flare of green light. Stilled as it witnessed the Order members who fought under Dumbledore's banner and were trying and so desperately failing, simply because they hadn't accepted one vital truth.

You couldn't save that which didn't want to be saved.

So when he finally spoke, his words were resolute. These were his friends, his comrades, not the Order. Not those witches and wizards who were blinded by the brilliance of Dumbledore and his willingness to offer second chances. These fifth and sixth year students of Hogwarts bore witness to the depravity sweeping across their world and were willing to do whatever necessary to put an end to it.

When he spoke, his words were for Cedric Diggory who ended up in a grave yard and was murdered simply because he was in the way. He spoke for his godfather, Sirius, locked away in prison for a crime he didn't commit and forced to hide away like some terrified animal, who fell through the veil of death. He spoke for a village that was bled and desecrated to create the undead caricatures whose only thought was the desolation their master desired.

But most of all he spoke for the innocence that was torn away from his heart, their hearts, from all the children who saw the face of death before their time. He wrapped the destiny that was determined to claim him around his shoulders like a shroud and his fingers tightened around the holly and phoenix feather wand in his hand. Not for power. Not for revenge.

But for vengeance.

And when he spoke, his voice resonated with the fury of the Divine.

_"Kill them all."_


End file.
